Mental Case Lyrics by Dr. Dooom

Mental Case Lyrics

    [dr. dooom]
    Yo, fuck octagon!
    Don't ask me about that fuckin shit
    Fuckin ask me about that fuckin shit again!!
    I ain't doin that type of shit (i ain't doin that shit)
    You motherfuckers think i'm crazy right? (yeah you crazy)
    I know, but i am..

    I have to show niggaz, word g, i have to blow niggaz
    Tech 9's, carbines, pointin in your fuckin faces
    Thirty-eight magnum butcher knife man, watch me stab em
    Q his kid left there, with ambulances, by the wheelchair
    Dangerous action, i'm the movie, i'm the main attraction
    Fuck up your front lawn with m&m's, jiffy popcorn
    Piss in your mailbox, throw shitty pampers every two blocks
    Cut up your great dane, with charcoal out, leavin great flame
    You fuckin bastard, don't fuck with me, you gettin blasted
    Niggaz get fucked up, you black niggaz are actin white
    Your rolex gone, my project's on your airplane flights
    First time you check out, baggage claim will throw your neck out
    Cut off your bodyguards, fast start with razor scars
    Come grab the submachines, joe step to seminars
    Niggaz with diamonds, armed crackheads, clock y'all rhymin
    Take your girl's necklace, stare at the cops, lookin reckless
    Ass on the corner, think you safe workin at warner brothers?
    Polygram building heard some shots, they want me to chill then
    Security ran, russell simmons saw me in a black van
    I ran the tight intersection, and caught a big erection
    Spinnin on 3rd, lexington, through the fuckin red
    I'm in manhattan, naked wigs, on my fuckin head
    Streets full of traffic, drive on sidewalks, that's my habits

    Chorus: dr. dooom and {unknown guest help}

    Mental case, mental case
    {man, he be likin campbell's soup, apple jacks
    Double xl diapers}
    Mental case, mental case
    {chocolate milk, porno films
    Flintstone tablets}
    Mental case, mental case
    {roscoe waffles and make them extra soft oh-kay?} +1
    {roscoe waffles.. and make them extra soft dude!} +2
    {make sure he gets a girl ohkay?} +3

    [dr. dooom]
    Your style is bitch kid, you fucked up, sound like a woman
    I'm not impressed when you sport mics and touch your breast
    You transvest with small flows, you can't, proper digest
    You open mic stands, you catch one, with sperm in your hand
    I leave you thinkin in your hotels, with pussy stinkin
    Massengil thrills flow through new york, to hollywood hills
    Your male flow, i'm wipin asscracks like mop-n-glo
    Mc's get inserts, thrash style selectin bad words
    Move with your silk suits, i stomp your mics with combat boots
    Make up your rap that's feeble, small you think it's major
    I pull your rectum out, erase your girl, off my pager
    International feedback, i make you twist your knee back
    I got your crew on camcorders, tryin to rhyme in teaback's
    Garter belts on dj's, sportin tryin to spin on felts
    I see that rugged kid comin through, gimme that screwface
    He's wearin girdles, your back-up man, sportin pink lace
    ..hey man you better watch your back up in here man
    They rapin little boys!

    Chorus

    [dr. dooom]
    I stop your intro, move your mic at your birthday party
    Your group set up, takin turns, y'all shut the fuck up
    Walk, grab your nuts, leave the kangol's and scratch your butts
    Stage shows get messed up, you're hardcore, zippin your dress up
    Move on your projects, new shit, that's how i do shit
    Word up g, y'all niggaz sound puss, lick my pee-pee veteran nasty
    Don't even try to fuckin ask me, fax you my phone number
    I beat you down with steel cans and wood lumber
    Open your face up, dress you with makeup
    Have your bitch-made, makin kool-aid with your ass out
    In a glass house, where convicts wear big dicks
    Strong niggaz, got your assholes in the mix
    You need protection for that tight infection

    Chorus

    [dr. dooom]
    You boys comin in hard, i'm the warden
    You go out soft

SEARCH LYRICS