Artist: Slaughterhouse f/ Eminem, Yelawolf Album: Shady XV Song: Psychopath Killer Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com {*whispered*} Killer killer killer killer killer [Intro: Royce Da 5'9"] I guess you can consider it a poet But with me it started out with these words, words words They started lookin like puzzle pieces so I start connectin them to each other 'Til they started to resemble, blank canvases By this time I was an artist So I just started to see, these pictures, these real visuals [Yelawolf] Psychopath, I'm a killer killer killer killer killer I'm a psychopath, I'm a killer (killer killer killer killer) A psychopath, I'm a killer (killer killer killer killer) A psychopath, I'm a killer (killer killer killer killer) A psychopath, I'm a killer [Interlude: singer] + (Yelawolf) Feel it in the air, breathe it in the night Starin at the full moon (killer killer killer killer) Did you ever think, you would come to find? (killer killer killer killer) Maybe in my dream (a psychopath, I'm a killer) [Royce Da 5'9"] I'm a psychopath, I'm never keepin it plain Lyrical murder is somethin I've been about Ever since I was a little kid, doodlin in class Drew a picture of my teacher, bullet in his head, ruler in his ass With a toilet in front of him, throwin up, pissed off Probably symbolic of this thought, sick tot To my inner enemy in a rush I'm havin nightmares of leavin behind my dreams with anything less than a full bank It's like I'm General Hong and I'm standin in front of a gun I'm puttin myself in the way of a bullet to pull rank The hood is over my eyes but the wool ain't Yeah, got the mentality of bein with a wizard Every award show we don't even get considered How do you sell somethin that's so lyrical to a kid who wouldn't know what was hittin if it hit him? (hit him, hit him) Now I wanna talk about these niggaz from Detroit Before me and Shady, who was thinkin 'bout Detroit? We put the world onto it So watch how you say "Fuck me" You just might jinx yourself, whoops, your girl gon' do it Cause I was in the 9-11 in Chicago, 9:11 at the same time I had already been grindin since '9-7 That's longevity and if you think you're lyrically better you better be a killer [Chorus: Yelawolf] I'm a psychopath, I'm a killer (killer killer killer killer) OHH you ain't never seen a motherfucker get realer A psychopath, I'm a killer (killer killer killer killer) Pull an automatic on anybody sporadic I choose A psychopath, I'm a killer (killer killer killer killer) Cause ain't nobody iller, no ain't nobody for realer A psychopath, I'm a killer [Crooked I/KXNG CROOKED] This elite drinker is the ringleader I'm a deep thinker, I'm a street preacher with a street sweeper full of heat seekers in your Jeep speakers I'ma keep ringers, I don't need heaters, I got the meat cleaver Welcome to the Slaughterhouse Niggaz try to tell me I spell too much Capital S to the LAUGH to the T-E-R HO, U-S-E, now go to hell you fucks Word, makin work disappear quick as magic Abracadabra, the trafficker blacker than Africa Can you imagine a nigga flippin bread for the blood? Money like Dracula Has him a spatula, ask me a question Am I the best with the flexin? Fuck yes with the goon talk, I just moonwalk all over the beat then I'm lightin up the street Crooked goin Michael Jackson on "Thriller" [Chorus] [Interlude] [Eminem] The thought of retirin is makin me wanna set your daughter on fire with a soldering iron and What up mom, applyin for the rim job, are you hirin? I'm hopin to fill up your openin, oh but I know I gotta meet a lot of requirements First I gotta accept you're in the lobby and the aisle and you've probably already been with all the Slaughter and I am in no mood to be playin second fiddle, slob on this violin with no strings attached, I'm just the product of a hostile environment But bein brought up so brought up inspired but I don't know why, it's still like I'm caught up inside a +Whirlpool+, not an appliance But applyin this science I psychotically rhyme And it's like stars have aligned all in alliance, heart of a lion, balls of Goliath Obscene talkin, the twine like a beanstalk and a vine But I keep walkin the line between the wrong and the right But everything I write seems wrong and it's like I'm ecstatic at all the static that I can still cause in the fabric of our modern society, now Catholics are panickin cause I snapped back to my old antics and shenanigans Damn it the pope's mad again Probably shouldn't have ran up in the Vatican with that mannequin singin "Bagpipes From Baghdad" again in my dad's drag draggin a faggot in a +GLAAD+, bag, won't be the last time I make a dramatic entrance like that again You thought I was lyin when I said I think that I'm crossin the line again I've lost my mind, caution, oh God I think I just thought of another fuckin line Forgive me Father for I have sinned But hip-hop has left me brainwashed with a violent ... streak... defiant Now the odds of me tryin to fuckin be quiet probably gotta be 'bout as high as the Jolly Green Giant after he's fallen in pollen next to a killer beehive colony tryin to sneak by it While his feet stomp, follow me while I revive rap! I'ma start up a riotin, try to stop it or silence it You're not gonna, might as well just hit the block in your joggin attire in Boston, across the Marathon finish line and I put your thoughts against mine Cause the arsenal I have'll scar you for life worse than Dzhokhar's and I have a bomb, pliers and barbed wire Your bars are like Barney Fife with a fuckin swiss army knife A saber-less Darth Vader with arthritis at a bar fight with the Dark Knight on a dark night with his arms tied up I'm Dahmer-like when I'm on the mic, I'm not gonna lie I perform like I'm gonna die at the end of a song so it's hard for the rhyme to end! Like fuck 'em all, I'm just ridin Like I'm locked up inside of a shot-up Bonnie and Clyde car Uncle Ronnie was drivin, 'bout to barge through the side door of Arkham Asylum and park in the dining room~! [Chorus]