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twisted artistics – heated lyrics

yo, what you doing?
take it easy, man
relax, it’s cool

[1.verse: twisted artistics]

i recognized this cat with his face all twiched up
involved in some kind of mix up, straight brawling acting (like) a big-shot
we used to go to the same crib, he’d be in the corner
struck me as a strange kid. if he was asking me for the
time i couldn’t even tell, he didn’t speak norwegian well
i didn’t know what to make of him, wasted, dancing with himself
i came to know him better, we had a lot of fun together
but of course good times like that can never last forever
now i spotted him in the street, apparently on
heavy chemicals. probably just for staring him wrong
getting at this dude. dude wanted no trouble
i knew how quickly blood could leak out of bodies and form whole puddles
next thing i knew, he and some dumb brute swung
pounding his face, two-to-one. dude’s down for counting, gazing over
i began running, stepping on red concrete
kept ’em from jumping on his head while he still had some t–th

[hook:]

you can’t surrender to your temper
(when) anger’s got you not thinking straight
(you) need to count to ten, what
put your self discipline in practice
it takes a cool head to put things in perspective

[2.verse]

index-finger to the chest when questioning his best friend
tresp-ssing on that rule he p-ssed among his brethren
dissapointed to the point (that) he’dd like to swing a fist to
the chin of the sc-m who gave drugs to his sister
shaking with anger, wilding out, yelling in the street
demanding answers as to why he gave her lsd
talking ’bout how mad he is and ’bout the malice he
(is) gonna bring upon him for contributing in her fallacy
i’ve seen him often with a blue tongue
he’s far from no angel himself, but her; she was too young
iguess, he thought, to follow in his footsteps
too young for regrets from booze, drugs and cheap s-x
i told him: “i know you love your little sister, but cool off a little
if you shove his t–th all out of place, what does it settle?”
our own mistakes and weaknesses, they have an ominous
way of increasing in the lives of those looking up to us

[hook]

[3.verse]

my dawg’s got a habit, that’s why he came to your crib
(he) came to me like: “i can’t believe the brains on this kid!”
you used to party-rap, i came to your show once
you got on stage and spat for practically no one
(it) seems all unreal looking back, how
my dawg’s telling me that you’re cooking crack now?!
so you got your bulletproof vest, your sawed-off-shotgun
day to day, living ruthless, straight getting your drug on
so your a solider, life on the line, pride galore
(i) get it. i just can’t figure out what cause you’re fighting for
is it the cash-money? the rush? are you tired of living?
or have you just got a thing for these scrawny women?
look man, i wish you well. i really do, kid
i just can’t help thinking that you must be really stupid
pluss i oughta smack you for offering crack to my man
that just don’t fly. you oughta know that like the back of your hand

[hook]

- twisted artistics lyrics

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