Lyrics:
got a Bobby Boucher mind
Ya brain ain't do the proper healin'
Now go 'head
Tap my pockets like you did Goodz if you want
I'ma let you but what I'm a do
My mental health takes a toll on me
Meet my split personalities its the brothers three
Oh no ones gone found him dead
Smilin on the floor with a bullet
her veins
Her daddy left her with some shit in her brain
Yeah she fucked in the head, she wanna slurp me up and expect me not to wed
Got my dick in some
(blinded by the light)
Because it's blurred by the V’s, I was driven
I also was distracted by head she was giving
(she kept playing) it made us wonder
It was
the architect
So respect 'em
I disconnect 'em,
Soon as I inject 'em
With radiation
Put 'em by the basement
Bust his chest open
Bash his face in
Let it split 'em
the architect
So respect 'em
I disconnect 'em,
Soon as I inject 'em
With radiation
Put 'em by the basement
Bust his chest open
Bash his face in
Let it split 'em
clip his dreads
Bullets ricocheted off his ear
Than hit his head
Now y'all probably wondering why I'm
Mixing Shine and 0 together
Not cause them niggas
water
The earth daughter rest her head on my chest
Through the struggle we cuddle under half-moon crest
While the press plant fear and exploit the gun
(that's right)
I saw that nigga get his head tore off (by who? )
By the same nigga that took his wife
You know I come nutty stingin like syphillis
You can
they brains hangin'
Straight gettin' down for mine
And I'll fuck up a bitch, cause I don't mind dyin'
So feel me drill me, put a bullet in my head
they brains hangin'
Straight gettin' down for mine
And I'll fuck up a bitch, cause I don't mind dyin'
So feel me drill me, put a bullet in my head
bullets you can't trust
If you bust, when I spray
Head for shelter
10% is gonna help ya, 90 is gonna fail ya
A lot of punk niggas try to play hard
Put
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side, do he live
No the nigga dies
Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
You shot
Everyone wants to be a cowboy
Grab your guns boy
Forty-five by my side, do he live
No the nigga dies
Zen, zen zen zen zen zen zen
You shot your
least to succeed but I'm back to let cha have it
Now I'm moving on y'all can't stop the tank I'm wit
If you fuck wit me be guaranteed bitch that your head
back and pull strings
Yeah yeah
Used to have that fuckin' title by name
Yeah yeah now that's nothin' but some
Fire to my flame, Yeah yeah
You ain't
vicious bullet
you'll lose more than your lips with your clitoris in my fridge
bein' a victim of Joel Rifkin would be a privilege
'cause I'll do worse
Turk:
Niggas steady getting chopped
Losin they life behind stupid shit
Ain't that a bitch
Niggas, gettin' they wig split
And it's a shame
Killin' has
That's the shit
Twiztid we give it up wig splits
Twiztid
Wig splits
Wig splits
Twiztid's givin wig splits.
We cracked your head in half
And what shit
It felt like a bullet
How we skirt off in the whip
I feel like a ruler
When I give it by the inch
Gave it to my jeweler
Then he said he'll make amends
and disguises
Cause my split personality is having an identity crisis
I'm Dr. Hyde and Mr. Jekyll, disrespectful
Hearing voices in my head while these whispers
Agh! He's a good shot
Bullet in my arm
Blood trickles to the ground on the cactus farm
On his home turf, by the old barn
Pinned to the wall, I've gotta
the gats
They get the chance to grip 'em
And they bullets got bald heads
Clips full of cancer victims
Ya boy go dumb but I'm a man of wisdom
If this retard
slaying
While the physical world hangs
By an invisible string
I've got silver bullets for the soulless
I'll turn a murder into pop art
It's all showbizz
He
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