Might Go Psycho - Bambu

Please don’t let the beer belly and bushy beard fool you

Still a red horse chuggin' filipino shaka zulu

In a psycho realm crewneck — born to raise music

Out a neighborhood who’s schools had no arts budget to do shit

Poor = bored we ain’t have no way to record

«ay yo, grab my uncle abraham’s berretta out the drawer!»

Let’s go jimmy us a minivan and roll around

See what kind of trouble we can get in when the sun goes down

Second class citizen and prison ain’t no fuckin' sweat

My uncle ain’t gonna' trip ‘cause they done boosted up my uncle’s rent

Tic toc — if you listen close you’ll hear the clickin' sound

Mechanism trigger spark the powder metal flyin' out

Bulls how we buck you hit the dirt like a cowboy

Run like you ricky I hop out like I’m doughboy

A old pinoy ice cube sick jacken for beats

Shellin' hella propaganda like a north korean factory…

(hook)

I might go psycho

I might go psycho

Yo I don’t know what I’m saying but I might go psycho

Hotboxin' in a minivan

Cantonese ak47 straight from pakistan

Please don’t let the beer belly and pampadour fool you

Lapu lapu on the head of magellan I’m fuckin' brutal

Tattooing you with bullets so you do not get mislead

Drill a hole into your skull and leave you redder than canelo’s head

Lift those arms up give me all your fuckin' dough

Iphones credit cards anything that’s made of gold

Run that — straight to my chilean homie ti-tere

He gone flip it two to three different times down tijuana way

Shady maybe, baby, it’s difficult livin' day to day

I’m pacqiuao chasin' money while it’s flashy but he run away

I don’t know what the fuck you thought it was

Shake, muthufukkuh, we unstable with no prescription drugs

Fuck you and fuck whatever made up neighborhood you claim

I’ll get jumped in your rival gang just to blow out your fuckin' brains

(hook)

Please don’t let the beer belly and peace talk confuse you

I been broke since kindergarten don’t take much for me to shoot you

Shady ass promoters try duck me like a low beam

Money make a person turn to greed like it’s no thing

I understand the way they’ve been conditioned to think like

But the principle’s what got my filipino’s all uptight

Funny type accent but ain’t smiled in a month

And he would cave your fuckin' chest in if I just bought him a lunch

We on that third world fresh off of a war ready to go

While most these kids who rap the toughest wouldn’t move to fight a cold

I know I might go psycho

Heard police was tappin' comps but what the fuck do I know

I know that a bullet get more change than a vote do

Street platoon patrollin' neighborhoods like it’s 0−2

Trust, fool, I still got my uncle’s old beretta

Droppin' knowledge like I punched your class professor!