recreate with my mind full of anguish, I spit 16s outta 9’s, as sick as stillbirths in mangers / I rob dope pushers with 12 gauges, blood trickles from my veins down to my suede Timbs, my face remains emaciated / my soul’s tainted ‘n’ I bump tha Gravediggaz ‘n’ tame ninjaz with tha sovereign brain of a prince / Milo’s pain has even been prior to ’96 when Hense flipped the R.I.P. Civic whip / flippant, my alcoholic ways is like Dionysus, tha wicked God named Twisted Science, I’ll slit ya wrist for lyin’ / nickel-plated semis gleam, a ruffneck whose thoughts is priceless, my prison team is 3 Strike 25-to-lifers / sharper than razor wires, my bars cause fires like sparks from radial spare car tires / the Art of 16 bars, ef tha feds like Libertines, I carve my nomenclature outta anger, ire n Bad Dreams…
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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