itís post-apocalyptic when my pen spits livid actions / chain reactions happen from tha toppest brass / rockets blast with warheads that rearrange deoxyribonucleic acid / Death has a hand in the equation of poor to richest classes / World War 3ís between tha Leftists Ďní tha democratic capitalists, slash tha fascists, when I see tha cash I grab it / CREAM is Fort Knox blood money laundered, gold bullion rationed by the Obama Camp / tha God lamps in tha cut, I vamp tracks yet I donít bloodsuck like Vlad / crabs, watch ya back cuz you too could get stabbed / bullet holes last infused with sociopathic ways, laugh at tha spray as lives vacate / leave tha physical vessel behind, return to the essence / then reassign back to the Earth plane for another turn at lifeís lessons / this time I remain transcendent to any form of manís doctrine of oppressionÖ
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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