from tha mind of tha most hated, comes rhymes of tha most creative / vocal mosaics post-dated, from now till my parole date / you can’t see me like my name was Ghostface / take my verse out tha track ‘n’ it’ll no longer rotate / I flow like insurance, with a co-pay / ‘n’ I gotta stay a purist, sharper than tha missin’ knife of O.J. / friction, non-fiction, bronze my 1st Timberlands / I pontificate on a soapbox, tha verbal surgeon smokes rocks post-op / shavin’ MCs’ faux-hawks, real MCs don’t need a coast God / let’s let tha prisons out ‘n’ have no cops / growth is brought when Hip Hop reverts to Mom ‘n’ Pop shops…
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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