Twisted Insane
Shoot For The Face
Can you muthaf**kers even here me?
Can you n***as hear me on this muthaf**ka, n***a, cuz it seem like for the last ten years ain't nobody been listenin

[Verse 1]
They never told me about these [thieves?] and these bullets I'd be duckin
Just these b*t*hes that be up in my face and the [smokers?] to get to bluffin
N***a, tell me that ain't somethin when you eleven years old...
And all a n***a ever witness is body baggin and toe-taggin toes
It's the monsters in the dark...
That made a n***a the way I am
I'm [on Michael Jackson's thriller?], n***a no time for Sam I Am
Eat up the green eggs n' ham and scram...
Out the back do'
Might hit a [switch knot?] with that b*t*h and [yo trap ho?]
And I'm that n***a that's out the [deck?] and quick to hit ya
Leave ya froze, body cold, you gets the picture
[?] how to get ya when this slug gets to lettin loose
Pa** the heat to the homie and Blood gets to lettin loose
Muthaf**ka, ain't no SouthEast gang truths
Smashin on n***a with a nine, homeboy f**k a deuce deuce
But if you a real n***a, you gon' [conquer?] what you got...
Back on the block with the Glocks that pop and muthaf**kin bodies drop
Shoot for the face

What these muthaf**kas don't undastand n***a, is I got heat n***a...
I got muthaf**kin heat rockets n***a, I'm a commodity in this muthaf**kin game n***a
That's real
[?] mothaf**ka, don't believe this sh*t...
Shoot for the face

What you gotta understand n***as, is when you mothaf**kers see me in the street n***a, when you see me in the mall doin what I'm doin, don't even trip on me n***a, just know I'm finna get where I wanna be muthaf**ka!

Why n***as wanna f**k with my kind? [with my kind]
Cuz my kind is crazy [so crazy]
Why mothaf**kas still wanna waste my time? [n***as waste my muthaf**kin time]
Mothaf**ka just pay [ya betta pay me]
Just pay me [ya betta pay me]

[Verse 2]
Cause oohh I'm too cool plus I [deuce?] the voodoo
Shootin off for ya face, Twisted Insane, who's you?
I be a muthaf**kin regular n***a like [Mitch?] said
And if the ho [sayin she celebrate?], n***a the b*t*h dead [ha ha!]
Put a bullet in ya braids and gets ghost
Chewin up body parts with syrup like French Toast
And for the most, this sh*t's whack, I was born to [mate?]
Now all you mothaf**kas hang from my sack
But I'm lyin...
Cuz nobody know about me
But how can...
I be ever so sick and none of these n***as know about me?
You got me...
They should've stuck it up in that mothaf**ka that got me right before that n***a shot me
Shoot for the face
[?] goddamn gifted with this sh*t n***a
You know what I'm sayin?
I don't even know homie
I don't even know
Practice makes perfect
Shoot for the face
You know what I'm sayin?
And I don't even write sh*t n***a, I just get in this muthaf**ka and just spit it homie
[As is?] n***a
You n***as want mo'?
Okay, check it out Imma give you one mo', check it out...

[Verse 3]
I'm a broke a** n***a with no money, yes I speak now
Approach the ho from the do', get out the seat now
Cuz I ain't got no time for games, I'm already playin the game of life
My joystick?
These guns are nice!
[And never?] to be so hype
When I'm like a Pitbull and sick em
Stick em...
And nobody dissin, wishin that he missin
And p*ssin in the kitchen, and p*ssin in ya mouth cuz I'm a sick, sick n***a with the big d**k [schnow?]
Well pow wow, my sh*t's ever so sickening
And these [?] streets is thickening
But I'm on some money the most cuz I'm broke
I need some ends to spend, that's no joke
And scramblin n***as like they yolks
But some of these muthaf**kas is too strong on they own dope
And happen to get they life erased
Whole murder case, one tough taste, now who's the [base?]
Shoot for the face...