[Intro] No rest
[Verse 1: Twisted Insane] Bashful, everybody always coming to me I’m a a**hole
I don’t really give a you know I be eating the p**y like it was Tabasco
Don’t you worry Lil’ mama, I ain’t with the drama, get up out that castle
Smash on ’em so fast, bet you was the last, I’m finna laso
Pa** yo a** sit in this trashcan, got damn I mean
Know what so what? I don’t give no f**s, b**h go get clean
Tied the b**h up with a blindfold, yo can die hoe with the 223
Follow me, I’m on a mission, get up out the kitchen if a n***a too much heat
Lava
Run up in ’em with the fang
They don’t wanna bang
When I hit the party I’ma get the bang and get to knocking candy out yo pinata
Take another hit got me feeling kinda n***a was a super villian
With venom maybe I should bend ’em when I’m in the building someone get a doctor
Roll up on ’em in a pedal
Heat up out window smoke ’em like a hookah
Brainsick and they want it with g**n like I’m Kunta
Every time he come up with the bread he short like he lumpa
I don’t wanna have to hit a n***a block like doo doo doo
Hold up he don’t ever say no, I am walking with a halo
Could be fatal if I pull up on ’em with the black mask the space ghost
What you think bro? Should I really murder everybody go ahead and take notes?
Get away bro, I’m hit sh** that’s more quicker then fay-go
Tornado, spin when I’m full of sin and that’s daily
Ain’t now way to maintain b**h, my brain sicker than rabies
Them can leave now ain’t no way fo’ them to phase me
Then stare down the barrel all night b**h I’m brazy no rest
[Hook: C. Ray] I don’t play, I don’t snooze, somebody makin’ the news
Runnin’ the safe for ya j**els, pursue me I’m shakin ’em loose
You can stay lookin’ over your shoulder ’til I wind up catchin’ you slippin’
I sleep not a peep, I can’t bare it, ’cause there is no rest for the wicked
I wake up in the morning, get a bottle, hit the throttle, stick my dick up in my b**h though
[Throwing down the weed and rolling sweet?] Another hit I take a sh** and grab my pistol
[?] they ain’t knowing that I’m balling in my 64
I bend around the corner, [get the clip up on ’em’?] everybody’s getting smoked, no rest for the wicked
[Verse 2: Twisted Insane] Pardon my french I ain’t spose to
Clap when I’m in the back like I’m Rosa
Pour one when I’m in the hole blowing doja
Now, but a n***a brack and I told ya
Stuck and I need the weed that I’m use to
Done, but I’m hella one with the buddha
Sit up on the porch with the brew
Tell him if he come through then I’ll Do Ya
Someone hit the block, I’m moving hella slow and I don’t know ’em f** that
In a minute I’ma tell the homie hit the bushes n***a for the muskrat
Don’t be tryna walk up on me after wolfin, I don’t wanna shake ya hand
I don’t give a damn, I’m looking at his mannerisms with hammer ready and I bust back
Wake up in the morning hop up in the booth
Burn ’em up and I’m in it way to bic
Gotta keep it going and they ain’t really knowing that my brain on sick
Try to get up on the radio they like we don’t play this sh**
5 4 3 2 1 I’m done with this same old sh**
Voodoo
Obviously, I’m really with it shoot for the face
Went up and grabbed a hen, couple minutes later murder was the case
Hurry up and hop up in the whip and hit the corner like I’m being chased
Never did I ever stutter ain’t nobody over, when I’m in the race I’m first place
Spin when I’m full of sin and that’s daily
Ain’t now way to maintain b**h my brain sicker than rabies
Them can leave now ain’t no way fo’ them to phase me
Then stare down the barrel all night, b**h I’m brazy, no rest
[Hook: C. Ray] I don’t play, I don’t snooze, somebody makin’ the news
Runnin’ the safe for ya j**els, pursue me I’m shakin ’em loose
You can stay lookin’ over your shoulder ’til I wind up catchin’ you slippin’
I sleep not a peep, I can’t bare it, ’cause there is no rest for the wicked
I wake up in the morning, get a bottle, hit the throttle, stick my dick up in my b**h though
[Throwing down the weed and rolling sweet?] Another hit I take a sh** and grab my pistol
[?] they ain’t knowing that I’m balling in my 64
I bend around the corner, [get the clip up on ’em’?] everybody’s getting smoked, no rest for the wicked