Psychopathic Lyrics by Insane Clown Posse

  • Album Release Date: 1992
  • Features : {}

[Verse 1: Violent J]
Well, I’ve been to the state house and then some
Payed my debts but I’m still a street hoodlum
Dropped out of school ’cause I couldn’t find my locker
Stubbles on my chin, I got hair like Chewbacca
Might see me sleeping on the street
Don’t look for a job ’cause there’s no jobs looking for me
Then it all went to my head
Next day, forty-nine motherfuckers dead
Tell the pigs I did it
Pull your spine out your back, and beat you in the head with it
And keep your bitch in place
Or I’m a send her ass home with a foot print on her face
Uh, I’m hatin’ sluts
Shoot ’em in the face, step back, and itch my nuts
‘Less I’m in the sack
‘Cause I fuck so hard it’ll break they back
All the pressure packed into one nut
I was waiting on a bus, and my head blew up
And the sight’ll make ya sick
Violent J, motherfucker! psychopathic
[Interlude: Shaggy 2 Dope]
Thought you knew, bitch
ICP made up of psychotic, demented, psycho-kleptic motherfuckers
And we might put a hook on your throat like it ain’t nobody’s business

[Verse 2: Violent J]
First I’m standing by the train tracks
Then you see me running but naked with a battle axe
I’m swinging and slicing and chopping and cutting and
Aah, until I’m nuttin’
Seems like I always get beat down
Like the hawk turned to the wicked clown
Tiptoe back to the ghetto zone
‘Cause Southwest Detroit is this demented one’s home
So you might see me at a festival
Cussin’, rude, and scratchin’ my testicles
With a cold two-liter in hand
Rapping to the bitch at the french fry stand
Take her to the Patton Park
Then I’ll make a sexist remark
‘Cause they’re all eventually bitchin’
So if we ain’t fucking, take your ass to the kitchen
Police don’t like me, it’s obvious
Just don’t look in the trunk
Or the sight’ll make you sick
Violent J, motherfucker, psychopathic
“Hey man why don’t you slide some of that Faygo over here?
Come on man, you farted didn’t you? I should sock your ass man, you farted!
Chill, chill, man, it’s a cop
What man?
What?! Your license and registration that’s what, you little fuck face
Hey, hey yo man, fuck you, you fat jelly-filled motherfucker!
Get out of the car, get the fuck outta the car!
What’s up?
Bitch, come on man
(What’re you doing, man?)
(Let’s get the fuck out of here)
Fuck you, fuck you man!”

[Verse 3: Violent J]
Yeah, I’ve always been a psycho
I’ll throw rocks at stray dogs
Build crackhouses out of Lincoln logs
I cut class, said I was a faker
You was in school, I was home watching Green Acres
Now I’m all up in your face
You can barely hear the rap with all that bass
I’m running with a southwest street gang
And I never let my southwest meat hang
‘Cause you know what ICP’s all about
Take a brick out the street, and bust you in the mouth
Find the girl’s daddy’s rich
And his sweet little angel’s my sewer freak bitch
But I throw the turkey after the stuffing
Like Billy Bill say, “a bitch ain’t nothing”
Grab her by the arm and break it
Grab her by the life and take it
And, ya know, the sight’ll make ya sick
Violent J, motherfucker, psychopathic
Come on, psychopathic
Come on, come on
Yeah, psychopathic
(Mother fucker)
Come on
Bring it back, now
Come on, psychopathic
Bring it back, now
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, psychopathic

Well, then I sucked his nuts
Oh, did you?
Wow, did you fuck him?
Well, yeah. He fucked me in the ass
Wow. What about Rodney?
Fuck him. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him
*Beep* Hold on a second
Hey! You dumb fuckin’ bitch! I heard you fucked on me! What the fuck you doin’? When I see you, I’ma kick your motherfuckin’-
*Click* Hi!
Well, who was that?
Oh, wrong number

Popular Songs

More Song and Lyrics from the Artist