tha mic cord distortionist, I ponder death ‘n’ life like black orchids past by Teutonic forces / try to rise tha Beast that lies dormant / to eat at night I carry heavy-weight like a forklift with 4 clips / I blow a quarter zip in 4 hits with more kick than 16 out a 4-5th, my pen scripts verbal Sistine portraits / that blow minds surreal, for real, you MCs is like bovines grazin’ tha field / I break tha 7th Seal with rage, evil angels descend ‘n’ take off a human’s face ‘n’ turn it into a God for a huge rebate / rhymes carried in a stainless steel briefcase cuz all I feel is verbal zeal ‘n’ real hate / any proverbial dilemma I ameliorate / tensed up ceilins get raised, with razor wire I’m caged in / by tha grace of Science, I raise tha wage of sin / fueled by flesh ‘n’ chunky buttockses, I wade my way in…
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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