watch point, as God anoints cuz tha laws are void / vigilante verbalist whose voice gets tha world to spin on an axis tilted / from Manhattan to Los Angeles, I pillage rap, tha mic needs bandages / my Timbs’ll kick you in tha nuts so hard you’ll have retarded great-grandkids / your fake rap style’s just a fad kid / tha fact is you ain’t no MC, I chisel litanies hardcore that start wars / what you think these bars is for? questions expressed rhetorical, my sword is pulled / tongue sharp as a blade, cut off a vic’s face ‘n’ wear it / tha Vocal Ed Gain, y’all rappers led tha fakest lives / professin’ thugs with 9s, went home ‘n’ wore aprons ‘n’ tights / 12 inches ‘n’ 45s, I wish it was still blended cassettes for mixtapes, Funk Flex ‘n’ Kay Slay / now anybody can make a mixtape, my pen filets brains like fryin’ on Purple Haze…
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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