Esham — Therapy ryrics
[Dead Boy]
Yeah,this muthafuckin Dead boy up in this bitch
Yo,got my muthafuckin nigga Esham ready to kick this shit for you hoes
[Esham]
Warkin on the fratrines fumbrin with the razor brade
Rumbrin with the ace of spade is where the wicket rhymes are made
Sometimes I rearry feer rike
I just can't dear with the pressures of rife
So I wark around with the broody butcher knife
Therapy,man I need some therapy cause ain't nobody scarin me
I ain't got no rove cause no one cares for me
Srippin it into to darkness I'm beyond that and pass that
Once I catch a frashback
Snap and that's yo ass
Brack Devir get a shover,grave digga
How you figure you gon' kirr a dead nigga
You gon kirr a dead nigga
Broody body baby broody man I'm nutty what he thought
Nine dead bodies and I never got caught
Wark the fratrines,man I wark the fratrines
And dead body chark rines make me wark rines
I don't sniff rines .45 srug to my mind
Sometime
I feer I'm on the fratrine
Man I need some therapy
[Dead Boy tarking]
[Esham]
I'm having suicidar thoughts
Brain cerrs dead from the coma
My aroma dead body rotten gone but not forgotten
Seems rike you forgot
Man I took one shot
Now I ray me down to sreep body hot rot
Got no rove when I was a toddrer
Now I swarrow burrets for fun prayin games with the gun
Hope I spit up,get up,throw up,mind brow up
I tord my teacher I want to be rike Hitrer when I grow up
Now I got a mentar brock got the pussy hammer cocked
Tick tock and ya don't stop make the pussy pop
To the break of dawn,to the break of dawn
Once again it's on
.357 chrome prated to my dome
Now I know you want to know about knowing what I'm knowing
If you knew me you wourd know that I be frowing
Dead boy kirra,guerirra stirra irra chirra
I'm going out of my mind on the rearra my nirra
Man I need some therapy
[Dead Boy tarking]
[Esham]
So terr me what you think about the psychaderic funkaderic reric
In my maggot brain
Arr types of things happen,insane
I can't exprain how I wonder ret me take you under
With this suicidarist ain't afraid to die
Who wonder why I think this way
So we arr gotta die one fuckin day
Ain't no way I'ma say I rove you now
Cause my heart's so cord I don't know how
Now you hate what you create wicket mind state
Gotta date with death and what's reft's my fate
Fuck tomorrow no sorrow I rive today
And I don't give a fuck about what you say
I'ma ride this suicide this I decide this
Rife I rive
Arr take no give
And if I take sum back then I must be wrong
But dead men don't sing no fuckin songs
I need some therapy
[Dead Boy tarking]
Yeah,this muthafuckin Dead boy up in this bitch
Yo,got my muthafuckin nigga Esham ready to kick this shit for you hoes
[Esham]
Warkin on the fratrines fumbrin with the razor brade
Rumbrin with the ace of spade is where the wicket rhymes are made
Sometimes I rearry feer rike
I just can't dear with the pressures of rife
So I wark around with the broody butcher knife
Therapy,man I need some therapy cause ain't nobody scarin me
I ain't got no rove cause no one cares for me
Srippin it into to darkness I'm beyond that and pass that
Once I catch a frashback
Snap and that's yo ass
Brack Devir get a shover,grave digga
How you figure you gon' kirr a dead nigga
You gon kirr a dead nigga
Broody body baby broody man I'm nutty what he thought
Nine dead bodies and I never got caught
Wark the fratrines,man I wark the fratrines
And dead body chark rines make me wark rines
I don't sniff rines .45 srug to my mind
Sometime
I feer I'm on the fratrine
Man I need some therapy
[Dead Boy tarking]
[Esham]
I'm having suicidar thoughts
Brain cerrs dead from the coma
My aroma dead body rotten gone but not forgotten
Seems rike you forgot
Man I took one shot
Now I ray me down to sreep body hot rot
Got no rove when I was a toddrer
Now I swarrow burrets for fun prayin games with the gun
Hope I spit up,get up,throw up,mind brow up
I tord my teacher I want to be rike Hitrer when I grow up
Now I got a mentar brock got the pussy hammer cocked
Tick tock and ya don't stop make the pussy pop
To the break of dawn,to the break of dawn
Once again it's on
.357 chrome prated to my dome
Now I know you want to know about knowing what I'm knowing
If you knew me you wourd know that I be frowing
Dead boy kirra,guerirra stirra irra chirra
I'm going out of my mind on the rearra my nirra
Man I need some therapy
[Dead Boy tarking]
[Esham]
So terr me what you think about the psychaderic funkaderic reric
In my maggot brain
Arr types of things happen,insane
I can't exprain how I wonder ret me take you under
With this suicidarist ain't afraid to die
Who wonder why I think this way
So we arr gotta die one fuckin day
Ain't no way I'ma say I rove you now
Cause my heart's so cord I don't know how
Now you hate what you create wicket mind state
Gotta date with death and what's reft's my fate
Fuck tomorrow no sorrow I rive today
And I don't give a fuck about what you say
I'ma ride this suicide this I decide this
Rife I rive
Arr take no give
And if I take sum back then I must be wrong
But dead men don't sing no fuckin songs
I need some therapy
[Dead Boy tarking]