Spice 1

Spice 1 - Mind of a Sick Nigga lyrics

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(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 muthafuckin tape for.

Murda on wax.

Redrum. On wax.

Nigga, I said, redrum, on wax.

Gotta get my prozac fore I go back

and murda these muthafuckas

jumpin up out yo bushes in front a yo house with a tech nine

leavin in yo spine a flurry a bullets

its that killa S-P-I-C-E

a lot a these jealous muthafuckas they wanna murda me

but they cant fuck with that giggedy-giggedy-gangsta

the nigga thats leavin they muthafuckin body parts in dumpstas

Budda-bye-bye-bye feel them blood clot rastas

the niggaz who be out there slippin catch some buckshots to them head

pullin up four deep in an old school caddy

fully auto-maddy

empty the clip, niggaz like paddy

in the alley, niggaz domes they cap

pistol whippin muthafuckas, 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 river

What goes on in the mind of a sick nigga?

Redrum, professinal gravedigga

What goes on in the mind of a sick nigga?

Them bloody bodies, face down in them dirty river

What goes on in the mind of a sick nigga?

187, professinal gravedigga

Im bailin up out the cut and niggaz they dont know what the fuck happened

Im laughin and blastin, rippin asses in half an

street sweepin these niggaz up under the rug

plug they ass, makin they hooptie blow up when they crash

zonin out that hash

face down, back open, hopin they aint no snitches scopin

witnesses witness they own smokin

see it aint no joke and nothing funny

bustin caps in yo ass like Yosemite Sam and Bugs Bunny

they all see my comin and then they fled

Im shootin these niggaz off in the backa they head

blowin off they legs

talkin shit while they dyin

fuckin off they high an

hollow points keepin these niggaz cold bodies fryin

I aint no stranger to this killin shit

You shoulda thought before you fucked with this nigga you was dealin with

You see I mobs through the ghetto smokin hash blunts

stalkin game in the streets I grew up in

and when the shit get funky I just get on up

and blow your head off with a muthafuckin mac 10, bitch

Chorus

Youll be outta this muthafucka like Ron Goldman, chopped the fuck up

aint no nigga livin alive that survived

and had me caught up in some bullshit

now who you tryin to fuck up in the hustle

this 20 gaugell ripple your ass up like a can a Ruffles

Im tryin to bubble like Johnson and Johnson

with one in the chamber up an I load this strap with a 45 Thompson

and we gon see if all that shit is true

comin up out the bay, guaranteed to be 187 proof

you see my bustin with one hand up on my nutsac

departin domes yellin out whos the muthafuckin mac

its that red infa, nigga with a hot temper

I got your funeral date set up for next September

you gon be deader than livin presidents

cuz in a couple a secs your soul gon be checkin up outta its residence

bodies stiff like Christmas ornaments

because the niggaz that a fuck with me bein mo funk than Parliment

Chorus

You see I mobs through the ghetto smokin hash blunts

stalkin game in the streets I grew up in

and when the shit get funky I just get on up

and blow your head off with a muthafuckin mac 10, bitch

Chorus

(Nigga, what you thinkin bout?)

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