merge my multilayered exaltations with points of exclamation / fully decorated
half-man half-amazin’ / up to date I’m in waist chains cuz I’m an escape-risk / laden with notoriety, pagans worship tha sight of me / lead tha way toward eternal life/ my pen’s a sword, cut tha verbal slice ‘n’ crack my own cervical spine / liturgic, I swerve in cleaner than detergent with laundered rhymes / ponder how my verse’ll murder time / surmise my word’s devine, I keep my mind behind a kerchief / my assertiveness licks shots off tha spot like David Berkowitz / fuck a name, I duck ‘n’ aim at fuckin’ lames who shoulda tucked their chain / pleasure’s just a distant cousin of pain like a thin line between love ‘n’ hate / chokin’ emotion when I wrote this / I make opponents suffocate / my shotgun flow takes off your fuckin’ face / open tha closed casket at your fuckin’ wake ‘n’ ash tha blunt where there was once your face…
Any errors in Twisted's lyrics are solely that of typist & not in any way reflective of Twist's original handwritten work. Twist reviews typewritten work sent him by snail mail, any needed corrections are made & returned via snail mail from Twist who is in belly of beast.
Listen to me spit over phone from prison, serving 12 yrs for robbery
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