Lyrics to Skitsofrantic
Skitsofrantic Video:
Skitsofrantic, don't panic!!
Leave me alone
Get the fuck on
Skitsofrantic to the bone
When I'm home
I hear people walking in the other room
Cooking up chicken
Chillin' in my kitchen

Try to drive home, someone's in the back
Whisperin' words, breathin on my neck
Flickin' my ear, I know they're right there
But I can't see 'em in my mirror...uh!

Laying in my bed
I'm better off dead
They're trying to figure out a way to cut off my head
Hiding under covers, they're trying get me
But I can tell one of them's under there with me

I got a phone call, I can't pick it up
Can't do a thing
Just let it ring
Cause if I do, the phone will explode
I think I better leave him on hold

You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic

I better just chill
Bitch get real
I know you're trying to poison my meal
I know the deal
You want me dead so that you can get paid
I ain't gotta dime
So don't waste your time

I gotta kill them or they'll kill me
Who's these guys trying to walk down my street?
He's got a mail bag, he's probably just frontin'
I'm a give his ass something
Motherfucker!

The man next door tried to take me out
So I set a pipe bomb and blew up his house
Here come the cops, I don't know shit
How do I know you're legit
Bitch?

I hate to say it, but fuck Mort Crem
Cause I can tell, he's just one of them
Every night I see him on my little TV
He's always looking at me
Why!?!?

You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic

Sittin' in my room, everything's dark
I think I heard somebody fart
Now how can this be?
Ain't nobody home but me
And someone's trying to turn the key
"Hello?"

I'm losing my mind, fuck all you hoes
Pulled out a axe and take off my clothes
Paint my face like a wicked clown
I'm down
Straight skitsofrantic

You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
(gibberish)
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
(gibberish)
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
(gibberish)
You're skitsofrantic, don't panic
(gibberish)

"No, you ain't getting none, bitch. This shit costs money. Oh, hey hey, kiddies! How are you liking the ride thus far? Excellent! This next one is about that shit that comes out of the sewers and pipes and chokes your neck. It's called the Smog! Ahahahahaha!!"
Songwriters: BRUCE, JOSEPH / CLARK, MIKE E.
Publisher: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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