Am I Dead?
N.O.n Lyrics

I see you
I notice you

I see you looking at me
I notice you looking at me

Looking at me, so I ask
I ask because of your gaze

Am I a psycho?
Am I mentally unstable?

Yeah I'm a psycho
Yes, I am indeed unstable

I guess I'm a psycho
I suppose I am unstable

You're crazy, I like you, but you're crazy, my tours paid me So I used that dough to allure ladies to whom bathe me Never know that my minds for sure shady Pure Hades, rev x steady they couldn't endure to save me
You're insane, but I'm fond of you regardless. From the money I earn during tours, I pay women to bathe me and these women have no idea that I am completely unstable mentally and my mind resides in a state of utter darkness. They can't do anything to help me.

Why did I let this stripper burn me on the arm with her cigarette In the same spot ten times in a row When I felt that burn upon the clitoris?
Why didn't I stop the stripper from harming me? She burnt me in the same spot repeatedly and on a more sensitive area!

I'ma get her wet, sorry to get carried away, I feel stupid 'cause I ain't did her yet Maybe she never let a fine nigga stare at her breasts, I get vexed but I ain't bit her neck Open, I try to contain it but that damn dame thang's soakin' Alter ego say why you let them gang bang folk in Strange lane hopin' I can maintain copin' But ain't nobody talkin' when the insane mane spoken
I'm planning to engage in sexual activity with her and I regret my previous statement of letting her harm me. Maybe she hasn't experienced a good-looking man take notice of her chest before, it angers me that she hasn't offered herself to me completely. I try to hide my feelings, but sexual desire takes over, and I lose myself to these base instincts. I try to hold it together, but deep down, I know that I can't resist the impending insanity within me.

I like fire on my skin, blood on my draws From up on her walls, I'm suffering, I'm stuck in her claws Stuffed in her jaws, huffin' and puffin' hollerin' my god, Afterwards I like really hots scolding water on my balls
I enjoy pain and suffering, as it causes me to bleed. I'm stuck on her walls and in her clutches, all the while gasping for breath and trying to escape. Once it's all over, I like to use hot, scalding water on my genitals.

Mom? Dad? I'm no longer the boy you're used to seeing I've changed a lot, plus I've grown to hate every human being My mood swings have now turned my dreams into gruesome scenes Now I'm doing things I don't normally do
Mom and Dad, I'm not the same child you remember. I've changed immensely, to the point where I despise humanity in its entirety. My mental instability causes my dreams to become horrific, and I behave in ways I never would've thought possible before this descent into madness.

When illusions seem to be the only pleasures I can gain Heck, if I was sane I would of put down the mic and say Fuck it I'll never rise to fame But with the wicked records I contain, I could probably jump without your name
Illusory pleasures are the only ones I can enjoy now. If I were completely healthy and in my right mind, I would no longer create music, instead opting to never again pursue fame or recognition. However, with the evil lyrics I produce, I can likely still succeed without any outside assistance.

No lovey-dovey let's ignite the flame If you're lucky you survive the pain Sorry that ain't very merry to say, Why is this game so scary to play?
I don't want lovey-dovey, instead, let's get to the point and start the fire. If you're lucky, you'll survive in spite of the pain. I apologize for the gruesome nature of what I'm saying, but I wonder why this game is so terrifying.

Well let me think, 'cause every day My balls are getting too hairy to shave
Let me think, every day my genitalia become more difficult to shave because of their immense hair growth.

Pause a minute, I'm stressin' the game if I go to hell, Then heavens to blame I don't mean to come off crazy But you mothafuckas seem to think that I'm hella deranged (hey)
Hang on a moment, if I end up in Hell, then it's Heaven's fault for not intervening. I don't mean to sound insane, but some people seem to think I'm completely unstable.

When I was seven years old, I fell on my head and I severed my brain (hey) If you think I'm lying then Ask my mama nigga she'll can tell you the same
When I was seven, I fell and severely damaged my brain. I'm not lying; you can verify with my mother.

Should I be ashamed?
Is there anything for me to feel embarrassed about?

No, I'm living my life so ghetto fabulous
No, I'm living my life in a glorified form of ghetto lifestyle.

Before you get bent outta a shape my nigga let me ask you this I stab you with this mic And rap this verse I'm rappin' to you Matter fact I'm rapping through you, Never say my motherfucking name
Before your temper flares up, let me inquire about something. If I were to stab you with this microphone and perform this verse directed at you, it would be as if I am rapping through you, and you shouldn't ever call me by name.

Unless you absolutely have to
Unless you have an immediate, unavoidable reason to do so.

I am not no fucking jacket
I'm not a simple article of clothing.

With no matching shoes
Without any accompanying footwear.

And you are not no fashion guru
You are not a person with substantial knowledge of style and fashion.

Can't even see you niggas, Y'all wish I was rappin' to you Matter of fact act like I'm rappin' to you
I can't even see some of you individuals, yet you still aspire to have me speak directly to you. In fact, pretend as if I'm directing all of my words toward you.

If that gives you passion
If that gives you inspiration or motivation.

To use this as an excuse Then just jump up out of conclusion That I'm attackin' you dudes Is just like old fashion voodoo
If this inspires you to use it as a pretext, then jump to the conclusion that I'm in the wrong. This behavior is akin to the outdated practice of voodoo.

Y'all ain't even the shit, No y'all ain't even the doodoo I got more flavor on the tissue paper under my toobos
You don't even amount to anything meaningful, not even worth the feces that I wipe off with tissue paper. I have more flavor in those mundane instances than you could ever hope for.

So I'm slapping you foolish With wooden paddles you stupid
Therefore, I'm attacking you senselessly and causing physical harm.

Baby sitting little bastards like little afternoon children
Acting as a caretaker for young, misbehaving children.

You can call me psychotic
You can classify me as having a serious, severe mental illness.

But it's more like schizophrenic
However, the specific illness is more closely related to schizophrenia.

And I can speak can anyone tell me just where my medicine is
Despite my condition, I am capable of formulating coherent statements, but is anybody aware of where my prescribed medication may be located?

Guess I gotta show these minors just what my avenue is
I need to remind these young people what my ideals and ways are.

Man I swear I'm all up out of my brain like graduate students
I swear, I've lost all touch with rationality and common sense, just like graduate students.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings
I apologize, I did not intend to cause any emotional damage.

I see your tears, come here, Give me your face, let me clear it
I see that you're crying, come to me. Allow me to dry your tears and help you feel better.

But I wonder how it would look If I could peel it back with a skillet
However, I wonder how it would appear if I could forcibly remove your face layer by layer.

Then I'ma fill it crack when I hit it, Then I'ma spill it back when you heal it
Subsequently, I would like to fill in the cracks from when I caused damage, then allow it to heal before continuing the cycle of destruction.

Damn it Bobby boy, what in the hell, What in the heaven, what in the earth Where is your mom? What are you cursed? Where are you from? Where was your birth? Where were you first? Why weren't you in church? Why is there dirt, all on your shirt? Man I think that you're going berserk
Oh my goodness, Bobby boy, what is going on? Where are you at in life and where did you originate from? Do your parents know about this? Are you cursed or something? Why aren't you religious like most of society? Why are you covered in dirt? I think you're becoming unstable.

Am I a psycho? (psycho) Yeah I'm a psycho (psycho) I guess I'm a psycho (psycho, psycho, psycho)
Am I truly mentally unwell? Yes, that is a correct diagnosis. I suppose I'm quite insane, equally deserving of the label.