(Mopreme) Just 'cause a ni**a come in he got style Don't think I won't flip it Don't pull your file But I got enough bullsh*t to deal with I'm rollin' with the thugs so You must be on drugs to the head Get your a*s break down Broken half baby I'm a feelin' like a motherf*ckin psychopathic And if you got beef best leave it in the freezer I'm no joke Mopreme straight lo And you could get smoked You hook the sh*t you get stroked And all of that And later be back for your motherf*kin dope sack Kid it ain't the type of day to play doughnut Don't get your a*s sewn up Why you leakin on my blown out Hey, you're mixed up like a bowl of nuts You f*ck around and got it twisted up Boy, don't get it twisted
(chorus) Don't get it twisted!.....
(Macadoshis) It's the Macadoshis coming from the dark side The park side where the O.G.s do ride Ain't nothing but killers in the park As many ni**as lost they's heart When my gat sparks I'll bust a cap in that a*s Don't get it twisted When I'm on a mission, ni**as come with Mishy You busters gettin disciplined And you're comin' up short on your life When i smoke you with this mac-10 When it's on it's on f*ck it I'm makin ni**as kick the bucket when I check em' by inducis Ain't no think to let my s**t spin You on my sh*t list hope you got a death wish I tried to warn you but you missed me You should have listened motherf*cker when i said: Don't get it twisted!
(chorus)
(Rated R) ni**as got problems about gettin sh*t twisted They need to stay the f*ck out of grown folks business Kids get a kick out of bumpin their big clips But don't front no sh*t that brought no sh*t that peace started Cause I'm a cold hearted rider straight dunkin' never through with my streets Never hurt nobody but my heat East side brothers don't hear me though They'd rather get sh*t twisted and gather like hoes bit*h make a*s ni**as when I caught 'em Couldn't bust a drape if they wanted They're soft like Charmin But I don't sweat varmits I suffer with my black group Just a one-day murderer On the motherf*ckin Rudy Poop I snapped his soul, son Ain't no damn thing funny when I spray your a*s with my tongue And your mommy can't save you now Cause you got the job twisted up For f*ckin' with a killer
(chorus)
(fade out)
Compositores: Tupac Amaru Shakur, James D. Gass ECAD: Obra #1968287