Lil Psvcho - Walkers

I could tell you 'bout the darkside, while you sitting out at courtside
Shit I seen I can tell you 'bout this new future here, I got foresite
Farmers tan, middle of the Summer, twistin' up, sittin' in a Hummer
I got shot by an undercover but I bounced back and I still recovered
Walk around I got a empty stomach, tryn'a eat the bass up and keep 'em comin'
Snares, kicks, hats and the claps, walking dead tryn'a eat the public
Arm coming out the dirt in front of my tombstone and I climbed out
I aint betting on a headshot from them fuckboys who brought nines out
Find me walking through the White House with a ODing Amy Winehouse
With a giant mouth... she don't stop talking I'ma knock her out
Triple digit with the body count, yeah we both looking homocidal
Flesh coming up off her face, you won't ever find a hotter model
Traumatizing to the biggest rapper that you idolizing
Me and Crit got a good plan for how we coming into hip-hop asylum
You just came to hip-hoppers island, zombies, zombies, everywhere you look
Looking beautiful up in the flesh, diamond tie on with a pair of chucks
No designer on my shirt, and I'm writing every verse
Every cypher is a hearse, demon drink in all my thirst
And I'ma walker and I'm movin' viscous, I was in them ditches, gettin' to the business
So we caught a couple bodies not to mention, Goons walking, tearin' down the fences
New music, like no se, none of that shit's okay
None of that shits Psycho, he a broke spitter with no pay
Wave the cow in like olet and then I split her once from the jumpoff
Then instinctively dump off on the opposition tryn'a come forth
And that's living right, got some new weed every single night
Indica put me on the jet, new sativa got a different flight
Walk in the do' and I'm rolling the dro, tell me a rapper can fuck with the flow
Bury his ass on a radio single, telling you we aint gon keep it all low
Boy you a bitch and the people all know, Psycho a killer I smoke on the piff
Feeling too wavy, the ocean'll drift, bitch she a present, I'm opening gifts
And I'm hoping to get a few million all in my pocket and shit
The incompetent kid, you can find me where thermometers is
Put the cock in her ribs, feeling too cocky, I'm cocky as shit
Bruh if my name aint the top of the list then honestly I got a problem with this
No designer on my shirt, flow pirahnnas where it hurts
Rap madonnas getting hurt, put ya problems in the dirt, wahh
No designer on my shirt, and I'm writing every verse
Every cypher is a hearse, demon drink in all my thirst
And I'ma walker and I'm movin' viscous, I was in them ditches, gettin' to the business
So we caught a couple bodies not to mention, Goons walking, tearin' down the fences

Written by:
Matthew Schaffner

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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