Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Twinz , by - Heltah Skeltah. Song from the album D.I.R.T. Da Incredible Rap Team, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 29.09.2008
Record label: Duck Down
Song language: English
Twinz |
| Brownsville in this son' bitch, that’s Brooklyn |
| Robbery capital, jack or clap a fool, night or afternoon |
| I ain’t hide, nigga, Google me, matter fact |
| I direct you to the street, Sachman and Belmont, just bring a sleuth of heat |
| Sephlo PJ’s, Sachman Street pee stain |
| Buzzing with the dirty dozen, that’s a mean yae |
| I chase down niggas like you chase brown liquor |
| On my pivot like the chamber on the trey pound, bitches |
| I love New York, but I hate clown bitches |
| Not a chance will I tango with you stank foul bitches |
| And I ain’t tailor made for play around witcha |
| Sharks in the water, you ain’t got to wait around, nigga |
| Welcome to Bucktown, soon as I touchdown |
| Newport in my mouth, niggas want bust downs |
| Ruck is the best rapper, what do that make Rock? |
| Make him my twin brother, muthafucka, the bank stop, P. |
| We the illest and realest truthfully (yes indeed) |
| We the illest and realest, tell 'em (man, they already see) |
| We the illest and realest totally (it's D.I.R.T.) |
| We the illest and realest two niggas you ever seen |
| All my smokers light it up, to this I’ll shit |
| All my drinkers bottoms up, to this real shit |
| All my riders stand up, to this I’ll shit |
| Real shit, 'Ville shit, ya’ll got to feel this |
| Yo, listen, bang on your force, ya’ll niggas can’t hang with a boss |
| Jesus the name, no, I’m not the lame on the cross |
| Hating the north, north niggas hating the south |
| Hating you all, fuck it, throw the eight in your mouth |
| Sean Price a/k/a President P |
| Resident Evil, evil, bend the eagles, squeeze at your fleet |
| Grown man rap, everybody on the team is dirty |
| Everybody on your team, jeans dirty |
| Ya’ll niggas is bums, and Ruckus can’t take it no more |
| Give me your gun, permanently put his face on the floor |
| Listen, best flow and let the whole U.S. know |
| Let the sket blow, holla, me and Sephlo Dollar |
| Welcome to Bedrock, watch for the feds and the cops |
| Watch for the red dots, don’t get your head shot |
| Who the fuck is the best, Rock, what do that make Ruck? |
| Make him my twin brother, muthafucka, that’s gangsta |
| Listen, Tyra, I’m not a model, bitch, I’m not a rasta |
| But Rock’s America’s Next Top Jotta |
| Sket pop locker, I test drive shotguns |
| Slugs in your mug, fuck doctors, you dead, God gotcha |
| Then it’s back to my youth, the same D.I. |
| Got dro in the street like my name T.I. |
| Put fear in you niggas like the old Death Row |
| Jump get shot in the jaw, give you smoke neck lows |
| Yo, knife in my right, the sket on the left |
| Put the gun to your head and the Gillette to your neck |
| Sean Price is the best in the west, I mean the beast from the east |
| Super rappers see the S on my chest |
| Son of Jarel, gun and an L, top shotter |
| Rosary beads, you bleed stigmata, the kid’s hotter |
| My rap style is gene se qua |
| Mixed with stupidity, it’ll be curtains for ya’ll, P! |