I repel critics cuz when I excel I propel hollow-tips that pierce chest cavities discovered by archeologists / a thousand year war between angels ‘n’ demonic characters ‘n’ cats with evil caricatures is in tha makin’ / my verbose haste raids wakes ‘n’ sprays serrated serenades at tha fakes whose voices are on the airwaves / boisterous, I loiter with tha pleasure ‘n’ praise of peer pressure / my vocalized verbal vehicle is 16 measures / wear a vest over your local vestures / tha focal is aimed at your neck, when I pierce your flesh it’ll make your head
hurt / check tha peckin’ order, full-fledged natural selection makes you quartered by tha 4th Horseman, a swordsman pokes a new orifice / escorted off tha face of existence, I urinate on your grave / I’m a purist till I’m placed in tha grave / from tha cradle to tha grave I ne’er stray cuz Hip Hop lives forever as tha culture I embrace…
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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