Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song What I'm Feelin', artist - Twiztid. Date of issue: 31.03.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
What I'm Feelin' |
| The drugs keepin me high |
| I just wanna eliminate everyone thats in sight |
| The wicked shits alive in me and it will never die |
| I just wanna let you know inside what I’m feelin |
| Feelin endevoured I’m still alive |
| Killers who cut throats the only ones that survive |
| The wicked shits alive in me and it will never die |
| I just wanna let you know inside what I’m feelin |
| I’m sick like hotel beds |
| And gettin head |
| In a motel where |
| My ex-girls in the corner dead |
| The coroner said it was an overdose |
| So I cut his throat and left him for dead |
| I slide him over home |
| I’m a stoner with his motor blown |
| And I get high over leavin wack mcee’s comatose |
| You ain’t shit you suck |
| So what you got your vitals mixed up |
| J hand me the bitch so I can pump this shit up like training day |
| I’m holdin the real killers who walk and never run away |
| Put your fuckin gun away |
| 'for I get pissed off then piss on ya like a rainy day |
| I ain’t happy I’m the other way |
| Stayin mad as fuck and always lookin to retaliate |
| So if you wondering why I magigate |
| Just refer to the real definition of assassinate |
| Here we go and were takin it back to basics |
| We make a mark and you marks try to erase it |
| We take dilemma and usually we embrace it |
| We were born in chaos with carnival faces |
| Hows that for odd |
| Sent here to eliminate false profits and DemiGods of statistics |
| Mediums, moguls and spreaders of the falseness |
| With they heads lopped off and bodies tied to crosses |
| Followers have been exposed |
| With overactive temperal lobes |
| Up in they dome |
| No indiviuality more clones on the production line |
| Manufacture and faximilated rhymes for the twelfth time |
| Thirteen’s synonomous with the oddity’s |
| Stay hungry for flesh like the piranha be |
| Killer tryin to dishonor me |
| Nothin is sacred in a dead economy |
| So bury me deap where the haters will never bother me |
| They got a problem with us and the way we tellin it |
| Not a statistic refuse to be irrelevent |
| Disorted in sick shit |
| Ooze from every element |
| You can blame it on my soul but the music be compelling it |
| To do the type of shit to make you feel it when you hear it |
| Musical ducktape |
| To patch the holes in your spirt |
| No jump on fate |
| We tomahawk with the lyrics |
| And stay buzz wordy while your shit’s on clearance |
| You phonier than cinamax porn and bein torn |
| Between bein a label whore |
| And wishin you were never born |
| I’m not hear to scorn |
| I’m just sayin that your nothin more than a porn on a board in a fake war |
| And now you fuck with ya millisha |
| Whirl with that government issue |
| Wont miss ya |
| I ain’t gotta spit a line to diss ya |
| I got a line around the block of folks commin to get ya |