here’s another classic guillotine rap spilt on tha lined tablet by tha quill splashin’ black ink / let’s delve into tha paragraph carried in my backpack with 40 dollars of go fast ‘n’ pens made outta mink/ majestic, his highness Science interjects at ciphers with rhymes so dope fiends overdose when they inject ‘em / ‘n’ start bleedin’ out tha rectum, I compose eulogies ‘n’ requiems ‘n’ tha best of them has yet to come like a Messianic 2nd Coming / came outta 1 now I’m searchin’ for another 1 to get up in repeatedly like bunnies / my underground state will never change, tha ‘90s were better days / fuck tha glitz, glamour ‘n’ fame, when you die they don’t care about your name or your faith cuz to tha God it’s all tha same / Southern Cal is my terrain where we spliff trees under palms ‘n’ drink malted barley mixed with rails of cocaine…
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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