Twisted

I'm twisted, not full conflicted into hell

But switch up and tell you how much I lifted

In front of them to, next to you is a wicked vivid

Videos and fixedly gifted to help you to perform a stunt,

But the more you go blunt, the more you stun your hunt,

Run in my uniform, it's my runnin' form, war cunt

Is what they say huh, identified and one gun bust

And shunned gore, glorified and lorded to the trust lord

More floor boards bore and fuss, let's cuss toward the dust lord

Called my four boys to the court, yesterday they walk forward to a rust sword

Rushed with for boarders in the sort, spotted with chalk, they got chopped like lust poured,

Chalked up a sentence, watched them get cocked by law, trust floored as they pop pills,

Popped a present presence as heavens doors hoard, and five more got sentenced to pop pills

Blue or red, pick the pill, Blue is heaven, red is hell, puppetry hands he controls,

We're just hell's children in the even deep end, poetry is gods hands as he controls are pens,

We beg and tell him and we frail and fail to let him rear end our lives to gods hands