I got beef with you MCs, I brought tha meat cleaver / hot shots spit 16s that’s 22s, my Hip Hop fades with tha spray of a streetsweeper / I take no names, big brain takes little brain / when in Rome God knows his own / approach a foe, I shove all 5 fingers down tha fucker’s throat ‘n’ pull out his fuckin’ lymph nodes / ruckus, my thoughtwaves of copywritten prolific profound elocution acutely electrocutes kids / ruthless like Montegue and Capulet clashes, euphemism for Black kids attackin’ each other while tha Devil’s laughin’ / graphics splash your walls like spray cans with fat tips / grab you half-wits by tha hand, show you how real rap is established / y’all’re all erroneous and as phony as Tony! Toni! Tone! bangin’ or a dude claimin’ he’s straight kissin’ other dudes on tha faces / at night, I wonder who he lays with?
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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