My lyrics grab rappers by their necks and squeeze 'em
Til they heart burst out they chest, They fucking leaking
Want to fucking mess my words up, Pistol whip and beat em
He wanna battle, Leave em, And laugh ha ha, I'm the reason
M-16 em, Stomp all over his guts in my Timbs
Macks'll snap off they limbs
And ain't none of ya'll fucking with him
The microphone assault rifle, Got ya'll writing my lyrics
A rap music sharp shooter turn your whip like the twins
The scope on my throat spit like I'm out flossing
No, I'm a problem, Fuck it, I'm a monster
And fuck cops cause I do what I want
I drive around drunk with no license plates
Bodies in the trunk, Leaning out the window
Hollering at just about anything, And punks, No homo
Talk slow-mo, I'm loco, And that's for dolo
I'm the body that came out the soul
I'm a universe that came out the globe
I'm phenomenal, Gat by the abdominal
I told my Grandmother when I was ten
The Devil didn't get inside of me, Cause I got into him
So if ya'll niggas wanna fuck around, I'll buck you down
Bust you clowns, This the Psychic World of Walter Reed
He's somewhere in Brooklyn
With a rapper tied up with a saw to his knees
Wearing a bloody tee, I see, If I'm not mistaken
He's wearing an apron, Smeared with blood across his skin
He's carving his face in, In the dark basement
He's laughing, While rapping, Lightning strike
His scream, He says fucking say my name bitch
No he's walking into a spaceship
He looks back, Like he knows I'm watching
He says something solid, Then he aboards the ship
Saying Walter, Walter, Psychic World
Til they heart burst out they chest, They fucking leaking
Want to fucking mess my words up, Pistol whip and beat em
He wanna battle, Leave em, And laugh ha ha, I'm the reason
M-16 em, Stomp all over his guts in my Timbs
Macks'll snap off they limbs
And ain't none of ya'll fucking with him
The microphone assault rifle, Got ya'll writing my lyrics
A rap music sharp shooter turn your whip like the twins
The scope on my throat spit like I'm out flossing
No, I'm a problem, Fuck it, I'm a monster
And fuck cops cause I do what I want
I drive around drunk with no license plates
Bodies in the trunk, Leaning out the window
Hollering at just about anything, And punks, No homo
Talk slow-mo, I'm loco, And that's for dolo
I'm the body that came out the soul
I'm a universe that came out the globe
I'm phenomenal, Gat by the abdominal
I told my Grandmother when I was ten
The Devil didn't get inside of me, Cause I got into him
So if ya'll niggas wanna fuck around, I'll buck you down
Bust you clowns, This the Psychic World of Walter Reed
He's somewhere in Brooklyn
With a rapper tied up with a saw to his knees
Wearing a bloody tee, I see, If I'm not mistaken
He's wearing an apron, Smeared with blood across his skin
He's carving his face in, In the dark basement
He's laughing, While rapping, Lightning strike
His scream, He says fucking say my name bitch
No he's walking into a spaceship
He looks back, Like he knows I'm watching
He says something solid, Then he aboards the ship
Saying Walter, Walter, Psychic World
{Beat changes)
I'm coming to getcha, I'm coming to getcha
I'm coming to getcha, I'm coming to getcha
Better read your scriptures, I'm coming to getcha
I'm coming to getcha, I'm coming to getcha
Sorta like I'm Hitler, I'm coming to getcha
I'm coming to getcha, I'm coming to getcha
I'm coming to getcha, I'm coming to getcha
I'm coming to getcha, I'm coming to getcha
I'm coming to getcha, I'm coming...
Who want it, Give it to em, Put the mic through em
Lyrics are mach tens, Close'n on em like fat twins
My gat's the Vatican, Confession bullets
These raps I use em to make pterodactyl music
Look, They scattering, Words are battle rams
My heart's like Amsterdam, You a hamster man
When the hammer go blam, Your body blows up
Then I watch it shatter fam
Don't go to sleep it's the Candy Man
And I don't need a fucking gun, It's destruction on my tongue
Go ahead, Act like I ain't the one
The Iron shall come, I don't need nobody to shine
I am the Sun, The lion has sprung, All ya'll rhyme'n is done
I spit like God or cayenne in my lungs
Niggas talk, They nice til my lyrics white chaulk their mic
Put their thoughts in a vice, And pull em out of they mind
Nigga when I go at you
Just know your going against seven hundred Worlds combined
There's one me and I out number you
Tell the fucking cops I'll jump you
My lyrics shot you, My voice kicked you
It was the rhyme, You felt nine fists punch you
I puncture, Niggas talk like they hard
Til they gone through the window, Through the door
Through the kitchen, Through the bathroom, Through the closet
Through a fence into an old lady way down the block yard
Our God and everybody gonna know it, The street poet
You want beef boy, I decoyed and destroyed
And yeah I know I said I'm about peace
The twelve tribes, Conscience rap, But you know what I lied.
I'm coming to getcha, I'm coming to getcha
I'm coming to getcha, I'm coming to getcha
Better read your scriptures, I'm coming to getcha
Better read your scriptures
Ha ha ha, That's right I'm breaking prayer hands
This time, Uh, I lied this time, Father forgive me
The Psycic World gotta come, I gotta get these dudes
Uh, These rap motherfuckers off my nuts, Uh
Stand back and motherfucking playa hate all day long
Yeah I used the word playa hate
Break your shit back just to tear it apart
Nowhatimean, Break it down just to build it up
Build it up just to break it down
It's Priesthood, Well understood, I'm coming to getcha
Psychic World of Walter Reed coming soon niggas
Uh, Mixtapes nigga, Last Night I Killed the Devil
Exorcist, Untold Story of Walter Reed
And more biiiootttcchhh
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