Lyrics Acting Crazy (feat. Farmed Goods) - R.O.C.
You
crazy
man
You
know
what?
When
you
said
that
last
time,
I
was
kinda
trippin′
right?
But
now,
you
right.
I
am
crazy.
But
you
know
what
else?
I
don't
give
a
fuck
I
got
the
juice,
call
me
Q,
y′all
just
fall
off
like
Bishop
Catch
you
at
the
corner
store
and
the
sawed
off
might
hiccup
Get
you
hauled
off
by
pickup,
ain't
gon'
be
no
redux
I
spit
heat,
call
it
acid
reflux
Watch
the
drilly
spray
if
they
really
may
try
us
I
conceive
crazy
like
I′m
Billy
Ray
Cyrus
You
a
silly
gay
virus,
with
nothin′
left
to
offer
me
Stick
you
for
your
life
savings
and
blow
it
on
a
shoppin'
spree
Music
reminiscent
of
dookie
ropes
and
tape
decks
I
break
necks
for
paychecks,
I′m
apex
Bust
like
great
sex,
better
bring
an
offering
Pretty
fly
for
a
white
guy,
but
you
my
offspring
Rhymes
abundant
like
hipsters
in
gentrified
neighborhoods
Smokin'
on
some
hydro
laced
with
wood
Wake
up
and
smell
the
daffodils,
most
of
y′all
ain't
half
as
ill
That′s
why
I'm
packin'
steel,
lookin′
for
a
cap
to
peel
They
tell
me
"Boy
you
actin′
crazy"
One
false
move
and
you
ghost
like
Patrick
Swayze
I
rip
the
bong
until
I
pass
out
Pushing
hella
product,
yeah
the
studio
my
trap
house
They
tell
me
"Boy
you
actin'
crazy"
One
false
move
and
you
ghost
like
Patrick
Swayze
I
rip
the
bong
until
I
pass
out
Pushing
hella
product,
yeah
the
studio
my
trap
house
Ayo
my
metaphors
will
dead
a
whore,
sock
you
′til
your
head
is
sore
Ever
do
me
dirty,
I'mma
act
like
we
ain′t
met
before
A
family
man,
smokin'
pot
with
your
mother
Preppin′
for
the
end
of
days,
got
a
Glock
in
the
cupboard
'Tis
the
season
for
trench
coats
and
black
Timbos
With
the
smell
of
skunk
seepin'
from
the
back
window
A
rap
nympho,
them
fools
can
hardly
handle
it
Stay
gettin′
busy
with
so
many
flows,
my
style′s
polyamorous
Our
support
base
spans
from
the
burbs
to
the
barrios
And
we
just
gettin'
started,
just
wait
and
see
how
far
we
go
I
dance
around
the
beat
as
a
substitute
for
cardio
Then
fly
to
Italy
and
take
some
shrooms
with
Super
Mario
(Woo
hoo)
Six
years
writin′
rhymes
and
I'm
still
at
it
Bout
the
same
age
as
Nas
when
he
recorded
Illmatic
I
rap
and
I
sing,
it′s
a
passionate
thing
You
know
I
do
it
for
the
art,
not
just
stackin'
the
green
They
tell
me
"Boy
you
actin′
crazy"
One
false
move
and
you
ghost
like
Patrick
Swayze
I
rip
the
bong
until
I
pass
out
Pushing
hella
product,
yeah
the
studio
my
trap
house
They
tell
me
"Boy
you
actin'
crazy"
One
false
move
and
you
ghost
like
Patrick
Swayze
I
rip
the
bong
until
I
pass
out
Pushing
hella
product,
yeah
the
studio
my
trap
house
My
rhymes
will
hit
you
in
the
face
like
I
was
Oscar
De
La
Hoya
I
faced
my
verdict,
popped
the
cop,
and
I
told
my
lawyer
Now
can
you
stop
me,
sublimated
Illuminati?
You
cocky
Nazis
with
your
auto-copied
paparazzi
Your
dicks
are
floppy,
your
chicks
are
sloppy,
you
need
some
coffee
So
get
the
fuck
up
off
me
cuz
I
move
at
top
speed
Rap
game
Kakashi,
blowin'
up
with
Nagasaki
Growin′
up
they
tried
to
pop
me,
cornered
when
they
tried
to
block
me
But
nothin′
can
ever
get
in
my
way,
you
suckas
watch
me
Rollin'
up
the
fatties,
praisin′
Haile
Selassie
Believe
in
me,
see
in
me,
somethin'
that
comes
from
dreams
it
seems
Movin′
and
groovin',
and
I′m
tryna
find
the
peace
in
me
The
beast
in
me
comin'
harder
than
ever
before
To
speak
with
our
people,
to
not
be
solvin'
shit
with
war
Here
comes
the
calm
in
the
storm,
way
too
bomb
for
the
norm
I′m
Jason
Bourne
with
a
sword,
with
mortars
and
some
C-4
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