Twisted Insane - No Rest for the Wicked lyrics

[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