Bout To Loose My Mind - Koopsta Knicca

Well, I’m headed for that iz-expressway, I’m on that dro

I’m constantly seeing clean ass rides, ooh-ooh-oh-oh

My momma’s always said «lil Koop, baby, go for that gold»

And jack 'em for them things I call rims, I call 'em vogues

I’m fresh up out of jail with no job, I’m back on hard

I got my favourite weap on my side, it’s fully charged

And breaking down these niggas, these bitches that’s living large

It’s not a habit, this is a sickness, excuse me, God

I started off with vogues and them bones, that’s what I did

And now it seems I’m addicted to chrome, ain’t that a bitch?

A roughing up, crazed-acting pimp smacking, I split their wig

That bitch — she start to screaming, hoes, stop it, I made 'em sick

The bitch resisited, he also did it, unloaded, yeah

Enough to make 'em taste the fucking shell smell, well

5−0s on my dick, now tell me, bitch, what am I supposed to do?

Some trick must have snitched about that Koopsta Knicca robbing fools

I never break a sweat in the presence of a motherfucking redneck

A high speed chase is in affect, wrap the scarf around my dead dreads

Stolen Chevy, balling heavy with a 450 in this motherfucking bitch

Plus I’m laying down eagles, 5−0 bitches — they can’t fuck with this

Turn the corner, thinking I’m gonna lay these tricks in a bodybag

And could this be the end of the Koopsta Knicca in a ski mask?

Ask me if I’m Dracula, I’ll tell ya this time I’m fucked up

Victims of my fucking stang, got my trunk filled up with them megabucks

Eli’s on my fucking side, shaking, paranoid and shit

So I just put an end to that… scary bitch

Cop out sillified, busta, I’m ruthless by my damn self

'Cause hanging with that Koopsta Knicca’s bad for your fucking health

Getting about my hog, killing, stealing, this is pimp shit

Real about my business, trick, dropping niggas off in my stash pot, biatch