[Verse 1]:
Who would ever have thought it would get this big?
With DVD's and screens in the back of the whip
Run up on the homies, they gonna let you know we activate and sh**
Pulling a millimeter gun right outta the trunks against the clock and I'm quick
Never know when a s**er come up and poppin' their brain
Put 'em up on the seat and the[?] shovin their lips into drains
Doin' the sick over Twisted Insane
That's what you get when your off of the reala'
Took you to d**h, [?stood on my chest and beating it like a pounding gorilla?]
Put 'em off of the [?] cuz' I got my fans who be spraying the sh** by the dozens
Never changing my music, I'm giving you heat you can feel it when bustin
Making it worse and worse, making them all melt
Making sure that my presence is felt
Secretly sending a subliminal message for help
Make 'em unbuckle my belt
[Pre-Chorus]:
I'm more than a gangster, I'm Twisted Insane n***a
You could build a snowman with the rocks on my chains n***a
They might talk a good game and they might got lumps
But I got 21 Thousand Units all in the trunk
[Hook {x2}]:
I got 21 thousand Units all in the trunk, [Yeah]
I got 21 thousand Units all in the trunk, [Uh huh]
I got 21 thousand Units all in the trunk
And I be hitting 22 by the end of the month
[Verse 2]:
Now if the majors don't hit me, they gotta be stupid
And I ain't even put my sh** in the van up off of Euclid
Vision my come up everyday
Everyday I make new fans
Now everybody and everybody's mama wanna know who I am
I am the sickest spit 'em with venom when I'm off of the chain
Hit 'em up with the gas when hurting they brain
Spilling my cup when I'm pa**ing my thang
Run up on it when your'e supposed to be gangsta
Post to be sick, Sick of theses people wolfin when they supposed to saints
Sick of the radio
Sick of the paper
Sick of the sh** on screen
I wake up everyday thinking about ashes to greens
[?] with the Vaseline
Feeling like they supposed be a booster
Two different colors to choose on my feet
Leave a n***a looking like a punkie brewster
[Pre-Hook]
[Hook {x2}]
[Verse 3]:
Here he comes with a box of CD's, shoes [and] clothes [and] j**els with Green T's
I sold [21 Thousand Units] homie that's real spit
Other's they get pressed up and then that they box it
But I be the one asking the people if they listen to music
Pushing my CD, giving your money back if you did not get addicted to it
Drinking a fifth of that Hennessy fluid
Taking a swig, feeling a booster