[Chorus: Complete, Sever]
The Psych Ward, we’re like daddy’s cold fingers
The lyrics in our songs stroke all of our victims
The voice lingers
“Daddy, don’t touch me, that’s my private parts”
The Psych Ward, we’re like daddy’s cold fingers
The lyrics in our songs stroke all of our victims
The voice lingers
“Daddy, don’t touch me, that’s my private parts”

[Verse 1: Mysc]
This is what it’s like to be stuck and suppressed
To a drunk and undress to a rape and molest
Go get stuff of the chest, the legs spread, so let’s start
You can bet you’re gonna get it when it gets hard
Hard to speak, when I drill it through your arse it’s weak
This is what it sounds like if scars could speak
When our lyrics creep on you while you’re half asleep
Scars from father’s fingers when it comes to me

[Verse 2: Blunt]
When it comes to depression in my family, the shit’s genetic
Don’t worry though, I only wanna be a schizophrenic
My time is set in place between the beast and the beaut
While my rhyme resonates among the least and the few
So here’s a toast to the lonesome who believe what we say
[?] that we’ve made
Like when motherfuckers say you gotta do it for crew
But half the time the motherfuckers wouldn’t do it for you
[Chorus: Complete, Sever]
The Psych Ward, we’re like daddy’s cold fingers
The lyrics in our songs stroke all of our victims
The voice lingers
“Daddy, don’t touch me, that’s my private parts”
The Psych Ward, we’re like daddy’s cold fingers
The lyrics in our songs stroke all of our victims
The voice lingers
“Daddy, don’t touch me, that’s my private parts”

[Verse 3: Intelekt]
I’ve been [?]
Hundreds of tits, I’m a twisted son of a bitch
This kid has done it for six years straight
Without my dick in an ugly chick
And I’m quick when I’m runnin’ my lip
Put me under arrest for hittin’ hundreds of kids in a Hummer and shit
But you’re best to button a clip, ‘fore I hit you with a kick
Into your stomach and tits, these fingers are touchin’ your bricks

[Verse 4: Defekt]
You’re stoked, sufferin’ to breathe through emphysema
I know you love the music when you jump into a seizure
Pumped with a fever to a maximum percent
My music lets loose in you’re body, like a cancer has spread
I attracted to death, and bashin’ queer cunts
You play Psych Ward so loud, you pop your eardrums
And it feels like, I’m in a game from soul
‘Cause my lyrics hypnotise, like brain control
[Chorus: Complete, Sever]
The Psych Ward, we’re like daddy’s cold fingers
The lyrics in our songs stroke all of our victims
The voice lingers
“Daddy, don’t touch me, that’s my private parts”
The Psych Ward, we’re like daddy’s cold fingers
The lyrics in our songs stroke all of our victims
The voice lingers
“Daddy, don’t touch me, that’s my private parts”

[Verse 5: Sever]
Just another rape victim, Psych Ward up in your system
You’re more than just a fan when you listen to the beat and rhythm
Im [?], causin’ cardiac to rest
But it’s not your fuckin’ heart, it’s my raps up in your dress
Fingers pounding at your flesh, two places at once
I’ll be spittin’ on stage and still tastin’ you cunts
Feels based on your tongue, we deliver the infantry
The dopest delivery soaks up the injury

[Verse 6: Complete]
This industry is my kid, I like to give it advice
My lyrics symbolise how far my fingers can slide
Bitterness and [?] mimics me grippin’ a mic
[?] like I haven’t written my signature right
Split your insides, the way that I rep this crew
Use a pencil to resent all these parental views, screw ‘em
And when they check for residue to try and get a clue
They’ll find a demented, uncensored demo that I sent to you
[Chorus: Complete, Sever]
The Psych Ward, we’re like daddy’s cold fingers
The lyrics in our songs stroke all of our victims (Stroke a vagina)
The voice lingers
“Daddy, don’t touch me, that’s my private parts”
The Psych Ward, we’re like daddy’s cold fingers
The lyrics in our songs stroke all of our victims (Stroke her anus)
The voice lingers
“Daddy, don’t touch me, that’s my private parts”

[Outro: Conplete, Mysc, Defekt]
The Psych Ward, Cunts
We anally fuck your ears in the ear arses
I’m moist, like Americans that get wet
Yeah, daddy’s cold fingers
This is Psych Movement
Feel the arse in our lyrics
Crank that, Psych Ward
[?] just sperm into your vaginas
I love you
Dude, let’s make out