Spice 1 - Mind of a Sick Nigga Lyrics
(Theyre all gonna laugh at you)(Theyre all gonna laugh at you)(Hahahahahaha)(Theyre all gonna laugh at you)Enter the mind of a sick nigga.With bloody uzi clips,Decapitated heads in baskets,Closed caskets. Murda on wax.Nigga, thats what its all about,Thats what you bought the mutha*****in tape for.Murda on wax.Redrum. On wax.Nigga, I said, redrum, on wax.Gotta get my prozac fore I go backAnd murda these mutha*****asJumpin up out yo bushes in front a yo house with a tech nineLeavin in yo spine a flurry a bulletsIts that killa S-P-I-C-EA lot a these jealous mutha*****as they wanna murda meBut they cant ***** with that giggedy-giggedy-gangstaThe nigga thats leavin they mutha*****in body parts in dumpstasBudda-bye-bye-bye feel them blood clot rastasThe niggaz who be out there slippin catch some buckshots to them headPullin up four deep in an old school caddyFully auto-maddyEmpty the clip, niggaz like paddyIn the alley, niggaz domes they capPistol whippin mutha*****as, got some blood on my strap(Chorus)What goes on in the mind of a sick nigga?Them bloody bodies, face down in the dirty riverWhat goes on in the mind of a sick nigga?Redrum, professinal gravediggaWhat goes on in the mind of a sick nigga?Them bloody bodies, face down in them dirty riverWhat goes on in the mind of a sick nigga?187, professinal gravediggaIm bailin up out the cut and niggaz they dont know what the ***** happenedIm laughin and blastin, rippin asses in half anStreet sweepin these niggaz up under the rugPlug they ass, makin they hooptie blow up when they crashZonin out that hashFace down, back open, hopin they aint no snitches scopinWitnesses witness they own smokinSee it aint no joke and nothing funnyBustin caps in yo ass like Yosemite Sam and Bugs BunnyThey all see my comin and then they fledIm shootin these niggaz off in the backa they headBlowin off they legsTalkin shit while they dyin*****in off they high anHollow points keepin these niggaz cold bodies fryinI aint no stranger to this killin shitYou shoulda thought before you *****ed with this nigga you was dealin withYou see I mobs through the ghetto smokin hash bluntsStalkin game in the streets I grew up inAnd when the shit get funky I just get on upAnd blow your head off with a mutha*****in mac 10, *****ChorusYoull be outta this mutha*****a like Ron Goldman, chopped the ***** upAint no nigga livin alive that survivedAnd had me caught up in some bullshitNow who you tryin to ***** up in the hustleThis 20 gaugell ripple your ass up like a can a RufflesIm tryin to bubble like Johnson and JohnsonWith one in the chamber up an I load this strap with a 45 ThompsonAnd we gon see if all that shit is trueComin up out the bay, guaranteed to be 187 proofYou see my bustin with one hand up on my nutsacDepartin domes yellin out whos the mutha*****in macIts that red infa, nigga with a hot temperI got your funeral date set up for next SeptemberYou gon be deader than livin presidentsCuz in a couple a secs your soul gon be checkin up outta its residenceBodies stiff like Christmas ornamentsBecause the niggaz that a ***** with me bein mo funk than ParlimentChorusYou see I mobs through the ghetto smokin hash bluntsStalkin game in the streets I grew up inAnd when the shit get funky I just get on upAnd blow your head off with a mutha*****in mac 10, *****Chorus(Nigga, what you thinkin bout?)
