I remember Hip Hop with tha lemon drop, GZA ‘n’ Raekwon was bumpin’ ‘n’ tha girlies was hot / hand on my crotch, pipe filled at tha tweak spot, 20 dollar bills straight covered with snot, hand me tha speed rock / cooked up liters in beakers, whips flipped, wish I could reverse life, I write deep words on my kites / about rat fink men who’s really mices, pack tha funk grams in my Phillie Titans, fuck man, I’m tha God of Science / bad times arise when my rhyme’s recited, I twist a dime ‘n’ ignite it, waitin’ to inhale exhale / nervous, I bite my nails, nostrils drippin’ fishscale assertive, expert at excursions under tha kerchief / for dime 1, I rock mics for fun to tha beats kicked by my own drum ‘n’ y’all ninjaz is ho-hum / I keep my throat numb, can’t pay tha funds? I break ya effin’ thumbs, high-strung like guitar strings strummed / guns ‘n’ ammo stashed under tha carseat, tha lump in my khakis is kosher yo, it’s all-beef / I’m a foul Anglo-Saxon like tha cats who started 13 colonies, my iconoclastic ways smash idolatry / thoughts is scholarly ‘n’ addressed properly, you praise my polished genes, trollaps get caught for collars, forensics trace ‘em follicly / I shoulda went to college but I got problems with tha law, I’m tha most Melanin Challenged MC…
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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