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twisted insane - contagious lyrics

[hook 4x]
i know i be racin’
my sh-t is contagious
that’s why i spit that sh-t that make you
look like you had facelift

[verse 1]
i got a weed habit that’s constant
i got a walk that won’t get off the gangsta lean
i got a gang of bills in my pocket
when you p-ss, motherf-ckers mad you ain’t made a team
they never made a n-gga that can fade a n-gga
i’mma win it, ain’t gon’ pretend that i’m not the one
these motherf-ckers actin’ like they really k!llin’ sh-t
when i’m the one that really got a n-gga poppin’ guns
i’m like „whoop!”
now tell me who the f-ck and i’d rap this n-gga
i don’t give a f-ck who you pick, he could be the man
pull out the saran, then wrap this n-gga
if a n-gga win, back to back this n-gga
i don’t play hoops but i shack this n-gga
the pow(d)er in my hand while i smack this n-gga
f-ck it, i’mma turn around and clap this n-gga!
so i hit ’em with a weapon
and i turn around, they gotta step in opposite direction
if i’m feelin’ disrespected then i really gotta wet ’em
put a bullet in my chamber, then a motherf-cker get ’em!
racks in my backs from these f-ckin’ shows
i be on a roll makin’ stupid guap
everybody and they mama know i’m it
how many people tell you that you hot?
how many people knowin’ that you not?
you really need to quit it, man, your sh-t is weak
you really never ever make a f-ckin’ knock
i heard the same sh-t from n-ggas since ’93
i’m weak? n-gga, that’s a blasphemy!
i’ve been avoided by the industry for f-ckin’ years
the rap game is lookin’ like a toilet bowl:
it’s really time for someone else to put the sh-t in gear!

[hook]

[verse 2]
always on the murder and the mash for green
everybody in it with no vaseline
solo ballin’ when i go against the m-ssive teams
i’m finna pull over and fill up on the gasoline
i could’ve been the one to k!ll, you could’ve been the one to die
and i be havin’ visions of my death like every f-ckin’ night
and i be thinkin’ to myself if anybody want me dead
the homies’ll come back and make a show a n-gga ?muddy fried?
„whoop! (ain’t n0body f-ckin’ with you…)”
now tell me who the f-ck and i’ll spit this venom
i’m finna motivate, elevate, to a different state
bust up out the crate, come get this gremlin!
the 45 caliber, n-gga, rip that denim!
i be in the city stickin’ d-ck fat in ’em
you talkin’ too much, hurry up and zip that denim
watch it i’mma pin her, bend her over the counter and bend ’em! (go…)
then i hit her with the p-n-s
and bendin’ the body perpendicular, rippin’ the fetus
and feedin’ up on the cleavage, and n-ggas they call it ?remission?
i was about to chew, don’t listen to it if you’re squeamish!
where i come from, n-gga? from the dirt
slept on a park bench or right on the street
that’s why i got so much love for the broke and homeless
why i give turkeys out on christmas eve?
while you other n-ggas worried about yachts and sh-t
buy a hundred thousand dollar watch and sh-t
don’t n0body care about you coppin’ sh-t
you silly motherf-ckers really need to stop this sh-t!
everybody wanna know what i’mma do or
should i try to get a deal or should i stay brainsick
?i keep it hearin?, i’m the sickest n-gga in the game
’cause i’m competin’ with these n-ggas and i ain’t got sh-t!

[hook]

- twisted insane lyrics

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