Therapy

All I seem to think about is violence

It doesn't matter if I'm dead sober or I'm bent

It's strange, I'm not insane, or at least I don't think so

Or am I? You think so, doc? Truthfully, I don't know

So what do I do? I go to my crew and ask for help, but

They ain't no help, they go through the same shit they damn self

So I look deep into the mind of a crook

Then out of nowhere, I envision two right hooks

Ah, damn, again goes this shit

I can't get out of this cycle, this one got me whipped

On the thought of a brain bashing

Doctor, stop me

Before I blow my motherfuckin' top, G

See that leather sofa over there? (Yeah)

Sit back with this six-pack and a spliff

That have your mind twisted while we chit-chat

I think that we should start with the session

But before we begin, let me ask you a few questions (Uh-huh)

Have you been touched the wrong way? (Nah)

Involved in gun play? (Yeah)

Did time? Let me guess, acquitted like you was OJ? (How'd you know?)

Typical black life, you jackknife son of a sea biscuit

Get specific and stop fuckin' around with that crack rock

(Yo, I don't smoke jumbs)

Yes you do, Duke, I can tell

'Cause you're actin' funny, like when blacks get money

(Dummy Jab's only married to Juana)

(And instead of helping, you're getting me heated like a sauna)

Just tryin' to get into your head

Pardon the way I treat ya

Tell me 'bout your scar

Did your mama beat ya? (Nah, man)

Fuck the mystery, Duke, tell me your history

You're pissing me off, plus the time keep on slippin', see?

I need a doctor to give me some therapy

I need a doctor to check my, my brain

As I think back to the '90's, that's when life got extra grimy

Multiplied with a fleet behind me, wasn't smart

To try me, physical fam gave less than a

Which added onto eighties anger tearin' through my inner

(Now we're gettin' somewhere, yeah)

It's all becoming clear

I always feared I'd have to play the rear till I was out of here

That's when I flipped out

And became a plane that transformed into a robot

Rock Da Kids was his name (One of them decept' ****?)

Yep, takin' dope clothes and then some, I bent some

(Did you have any legal source of income?)

I said farewell to welfare crazy long ago

They want you to work for them peanuts now

And you need a shrink if you think I'ma go

Then any thoughts and hopes of rehabilitation

Were killed when I lost my **** Phil

It's been downhill

Ever since and ain't nobody helping me so

I came to you, Dr. Killpatients, for therapy

I need a doctor to give me some therapy

I need a doctor to check my, my brain

What's the prognosis? Better yet, Duke, have a dosage

Or prescribed poetry that people perceive as potent

I've been goin' through your file and I found, in conclusion

That you're destined to be the best in this world of confusion

You lose when you fall victim to evil ways

I know crime pays, but the rhyme slays nowadays

Take two of these and if you have a problem at all

I'm on call twenty-four hours to brawl, word is bond

I need a doctor to give me some therapy

I need a doctor to check my, my brain

I need a doctor to give me some therapy

I need a doctor to check my, my brain

I need a doctor to give me some therapy

I need a doctor to check my, my brain

I need a doctor to give me some therapy

I need a doctor to check my, my brain

I need a doctor to give me some therapy

I need a doctor to check my, my brain

I need a doctor to give me some therapy

I need a doctor to check my, my brain

I need a doctor, I need a doctor

I need a doctor to check my, my brain