Siccness Doomsday Productions (Ft. Brotha Lynch Hung)

[Verse 1: Pit]
Please Mr. D.O.C
Tell me could ya get a P.I.T. remedy
Im poisoned
I got this aching in my tum tum
Everytime i hit the chronic blunt i'm thinking redrum
Doomsday and EBK is all that a killa see
I'm having visions of ripping out a niggers spleen
My patience short and I killed before
And them voices in my head keep teelin me to kill once more
Whats up DOC is there any hope?
I try to cope but im loco to a cut-throat
Addicted to weed, smokin and drinking like a pirate
Ain't no denying it
A nigga down to start a riot
Sic wit it, down for killin niggas, im down for killin bitches
Set rippin on the haters
Fuck i pop a witness, siccness using chronic for my coffee fuck robotussin
Death runs in my day, is my prescription
Im sick brotha stay away unless you kick it too
Cause not no more you got the common cause of it too
So i stay true 347 dedicated to doom
Antibiotics, pennicillin can't help this feeeling
And i can't help kicking it with sick niggas
Cause my mind is gone... and my blood is black
And wit da siccness trickling in my dome im not alone
Ekklyps, Lynch and a nigga PIT sic the in a glass of chronic with a hot bowl of monkey shit
So imma call you in the morning docter gonna have my cure
My mediction 187 cure da siccness