Paroles Erotic de Ganksta N-I-P

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Interview with a killa

1998

Erotic

Psych Daddy, can me and my three friends come and play with you
tonight?
Oh yeah, you and your three friends can come play with me
tonight, and you and your three friends can come pay with
tonight, you know what I'm sayin?
Big Syke, you know what I'm talkin about.
Erotic, exotic, and a little.....psychotic.

[Verse 1]
Picture a room where a con lives, it's dark inside
Newspaper clippins on the wall, from vics that died
Blood everywhere, you can tell the psycho went through
He had darts in their faces up to number fifty two
Psycho Uh, stalkin niggas, butcher knives stays handy
He would sit inside the park, and laugh and give kids candy
They say he was weird, but the bodies he killed
He always scratched off the names of the people he killed
Real slow, Pysch torture style, pass me the scissors
And cut off microscopic pieces like a mirror
Terror screams, let me know the spinal was crumbled
By the gestures they made and the words that they mumbled
Maybe I can slice a throat when I'm ready
It takes practice, training to keep a nail gun steadyYou should yell when it clicks, cuz blood finna seep
And bring a hundred thousand mourners and children to weep

[Chorus x8]
Erotic and exotic
And a little psychotic

[Verse 2]
Graveyards in my slaughter house (.?.)
Mutilation and bacteria to straight cats (?)
You can bet that yours is full of healthy humans and mice
Kinda lookin like a fleshy big pot fulla rice
Twenty people dead, strangled, uh that's my hobby
When I die you think I'm dead, but I really switched bodies
I'm standing there, watchin, they put him in the ground
Blow a sweet when it's over, I'll go kill downtown
Cops don't understand, they thought he was bluffin
They say the officer went crazy when he murdered a dozen
Other cops and didn't (?) cuz life ain't fair
They put his body in the chair, but his mind wasn't there
Soul snatcher, got cha, hit him with a heavy right
Hold him, hug him, hit him with a heavy pipe
Burn him, scorch him, you can bet the people saw it
Leave him there for thirty minutes, you'll see the birds (?)

[Chorus x8]

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[Verse 1]
Picture a room where a con lives, it's dark inside
Newspaper clippins on the wall, from vics that died
Blood everywhere, you can tell the psycho went through
He had darts in their faces up to number fifty two
Psycho Uh, stalkin niggas, butcher knives stays handy
He would sit inside the park, and laugh and give kids candy
They say he was weird, but the bodies he killed
He always scratched off the names of the people he killed
Real slow, Pysch torture style, pass me the scissors
And cut off microscopic pieces like a mirror
Terror screams, let me know the spinal was crumbled
By the gestures they made and the words that they mumbled
Maybe I can slice a throat when I'm ready
It takes practice, training to keep a nail gun steadyYou should yell when it clicks, cuz blood finna seep
And bring a hundred thousand mourners and children to weep

[Chorus x8]
Erotic and exotic
And a little psychotic

[Verse 2]
Graveyards in my slaughter house (.?.)
Mutilation and bacteria to straight cats (?)
You can bet that yours is full of healthy humans and mice
Kinda lookin like a fleshy big pot fulla rice
Twenty people dead, strangled, uh that's my hobby
When I die you think I'm dead, but I really switched bodies
I'm standing there, watchin, they put him in the ground
Blow a sweet when it's over, I'll go kill downtown
Cops don't understand, they thought he was bluffin
They say the officer went crazy when he murdered a dozen
Other cops and didn't (?) cuz life ain't fair
They put his body in the chair, but his mind wasn't there
Soul snatcher, got cha, hit him with a heavy right
Hold him, hug him, hit him with a heavy pipe
Burn him, scorch him, you can bet the people saw it
Leave him there for thirty minutes, you'll see the birds (?)

[Chorus x8]