(Yeah... Feelin' classy today. Well, aight. Let's go.)
I'm not evil I'm just psycho
I'm so afraid that everybody looks at my lyrics to spot a typo
(Yeah)

Money rate growing in my pocket is the minimal
Running from the mobs
People treat me like a criminal
The pinnacle of raw entertainment, my day spent
Throwing rocks at main events
I unravel the havoc
And take it easy in the hammock
Al Quaeda is the testimony
Don't you ever rectify me

The killable syllables
In the pinnacle of innocence
I'm a creepy little rapper
Coming out the factory, capture me
I will be the toughest rapper, actually
Watch me as I drag my ass to the top gradually
(Ugh)

I never sleep
I stay away and prey on the weak
Then I devour the freaks
And then I pray for the weak
I transmit gamma rays
And break off the manta ray's tail
And raise hell on a Saturday
And stab the people

Yeah
Another rapper washin' the dishes
Don't look at me and my sick compositions

(OH SICK!)

I am done with this feelin'
I am done with this feelin'
All you suckers this evenin'
All you suckers this evenin'
Are goin' down...

(WHOOOOO)