[VERSE 1]
|
Sucker wack vicks, I ratatattat tactics, givin em black kicks
|
Mufflin up the mic with funky black licks
|
Tricks, I be rippin em like hocus pocus, focus on the funk, gee
|
Tung be runnin away like a punk be
|
Rockin, droppin the funk of the manifestation that'll be dope
|
Scope the point of being wack? Nope, never & no-no
|
A dancer like a go-go? Oh no
|
My lip be sort of kickin sort of funky like a hobo
|
Sucker, I'm like a hype hip-hop gangster gettin dumb
|
Instead of shooting guns I shoot the tongue
|
Style Pacino, I'm gunnin em up controllin your casino
|
Funky like a wino, rhino-dyno like dino
|
Comin around the corner cappin sucker ducks who be tryin to wreck mine
|
But my lyrical tongue is like a Tec-9, wastin em
|
Look at me spillin juice, loose to chasin em
|
Cut them like tomatoes, then be tomat-pastin em
|
Facin em, gun to tongue, let's see who'll win this gang member
|
I'm droppin em like a leaf in September to November
|
Froze in December, rock over October, so remember
|
When I shoot the Tec-9 tongue - timber
|
Ratatattat
|
|
[CHORUS]
|
Ratatattat
|
What's the sound of a gat
|
Ratatattat
|
What's the sound of a gat
|
Ratatattat
|
What's the sound of a gat
|
Ratatattat
|
Show em how the Tung smacks
|
Ratatattat
|
Show em how the Tung smacks
|
Ratatattat
|
Show em how the Tung smacks
|
Ratatattat
|
Show em how the Tung smacks
|
Ratatattat
|
|
[VERSE 2]
|
Prr-prrrr.. buck em down
|
Sucker ducks, comin to pluck em down
|
Hope the hip hype hip-hop horn struck em down
|
Climbin, I'm never rhymin Simple like Simon but I'ma do what Simon said
|
He told me to put that head to bed
|
Givin an eyeful, funky rhythm of a tongue will stifle
|
Trifle cause I pop the tongue like a rifle
|
Watch the funky words pounce
|
From my mouth watch 40 bounce
|
Cappin a sucker duck like a 40 ounce
|
Some flows are wack, but as for me I cause a catastrophe
|
Like callin Allah God steppin to me is blasphemy
|
I shoot the tongue like a machine gun
|
Know what I mean, son?
|
A chunky spunky tongue if you ever seen one
|
Cops, I give em props, they cap men, mostly black men
|
Mouth will pack, then smack em like a Mack-10
|
Bop - another head flown like a frisbee, it is me
|
The clips from my lips could drop a Grizzly
|
Hear me vick, I pack a kick for the ballistic, animalistic
|
You didn't know my tongue was this quick
|
Cops that be cappin thinkin that be spunky
|
Watch I hit them with the lyric and then I'm cut em up with a funky
|
Ratatattat
|
|
[CHORUS]
|
|
[VERSE 3]
|
Poppin and poppin and poppin the flow of the hip hype hop rhythm
|
I bust caps like I've been hittin false teeth with raps
|
Rip your show apart, I know you got no heart to start, I flow art
|
I got the style that even Humphrey couldn't Bogart
|
Syllable serum, suckers hear come a style to smack a man
|
And it be sort of like a smack of Jackie Chan
|
I pop the funky gun of hip hop, I hop with hips
|
Droppin battle ships I put the automatic clips up into my lips
|
Funky like a drunk, I buck em like a hunter
|
My rifle will make em stifle like Edith Bunker
|
Suckers I tag em, my rhythm'll rag em, drag em
|
They felt the funky flow of the formula .44 Magnum
|
Minimum against the maximum, cracks a maximus
|
Charge tax and dust, thinkin about waxin us
|
DJ Jihad will slice em like lard
|
Check out the funky cut, rocks god be gunnin em up like buckshots
|
Cappin a brother if he come in a centimeter
|
Comin to drop the style of Tung and then I bet I'm gonna beat ya
|
Shootin like mi Uzi, I re-arrange a fella feature
|
Filimeter, mi funky rhythm is like a 9 millimeter
|
Ratatattat
|
|
[CHORUS]
|
|
-----------------
|
Ratatattat
|
Tung Twista |