Mind Playin' Tricks
Geto Boys And Scarface
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Lyrics
I sit alone in my four-cornered room
Staring at candles...
"Yo! That shit is on? Heh!
Let me drop some shit like this here... Real smooth."
At night I can't sleep, I toss and turn
Candlesticks in dark
Visions of bodies being burned.
Four walls just staring at a nigga
I'm paranoid, sleeping with my finger on the trigger
My mother's always stressing I ain't living right
But I ain't goin' out without a fight
See, every time my eyes close
I start sweating
And blood starts coming out my nose
They somebody watching me act
But I don't know who it is
So I'm watching my back
I can see him when I'm deep in the covers
When I awake, I don't see the motherfucker
He owns a black hat like I own
A black suit and a cane like my own
Some might say "Take a chill, B!"
But fuck that shit!
There's a nigga trying to kill me!
I'm poppin' in the clip when the wind blows
Every 20 seconds got me peepin' out my windows
Investigating the joint for traps
Checking my telephone for taps
I'm staring at the woman on the corna'
It's fucked up when your mind's playin' tricks on ya.
I make big money
I drive big cars
Everybody know me
It's like I'm a movie star
But late at night, somethin' ain't right
I feel I'm being tailed by the same sucker's headlights
Is it that fool that I ran off the block?
Or is it that Nigga last week that I shot?
Or is it the one I beat for five thousand dollars?
Reached under my seat
Grab my popper for the suckers
Ain't no use to me lying
I was scareder than a motherfucker
Hooked a left into Popeye's and bailed out quick
"If it's goin' down then let's get the shit over with!"
Here they come, just like I figured
Got my hand on the motherfucking trigger
What I saw'll make your ass start giggling
Three blind, crippled and crazy Senior Citizens
I live by the sword
I take my boys everywhere I go
Because I'm paranoid.
I keep looking over my shoulder
And peeping around corners
My mind's playin' tricks on me.
Day by day it's more impossible to cope
I feel like I'm the one that's doin' dope
Can't keep a steady hand because I'm nervous
Every Sunday morning I'm in Service
Praying for forgiveness
And trying to find an exit out the business
I know The Lord is looking at me
And yet, it's still hard to feel happy
I often drift when I drive
Having fatal thoughts of suicide
"Bang" and get it over with
Then I'm worry free, but that's bullshit
I gotta little boy to look after
And if I die, then my child will be a bastard.