Суетолог

Как говорит мой психолог, на свой счет принимать Нужно только деньги. Smoking on a bag, eyeballs red, Popping off the junk. Homicidal thoughts, they fill my head, It makes my mind numb. Yeah, don't test me, punk. Watch your step, I'm bound to pop. All I hear is talking from your side but Me, I know you lie. And if you're feeling lucky, come and do your Thing. Fucking with the H-Y-D-R-A, I'll catch you slipping, mate. No, I ain't gon' pop you, bout to stab You till your liver fades. And if you wanna step, I'm like a man, I'm down to hit the fade. In my veins flows the deadly Urge to fight, so knuckle up. Bitch, I'll put This bow right 'cross your face and watch you Hit the dust. I'm just a loose screw. Run your mouth, you're bound to try. Bust a quick, the talking dude. So work, it's time to walk it out. Smoking on a bag. Popping off the junk. Junk.