Twisted Insane - 21 Thousand Units lyrics

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Twisted Insane - 21 Thousand Units lyrics

[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