Up Late Twisted Insane (Ft. Charlie Ray)

[Hook: C.Ray]
(Up late) That's the only way to get it when you gotta make the product for the profit in ya pocket all day
But don't get it fucked up - I am nothin' like you bitch, I'm from the bottom and I came a long way
In the beginnin' wasn't winnin', now she hit me on my line like all the time and say she wanna come play
And you already know that I'm a runner, you can find me in her stomach, they know I be (up late)
(Up late) That's the only way to get it when you gotta make the product for the profit in ya pocket all day
But don't get it fucked up - I am nothin' like you bitch, I'm from the bottom and I came a long way
In the beginnin' wasn't winnin', now she hit me on my line like all the time and say she wanna come play
And you already know that I'm a runner, you can find me in her stomach, they know I be (up late)

[Verse 1: Twisted Insane]
Come one, come all, if you wanna ball, then come with me!
Oh shit, did the four-fifth just fall out my Dickey?
They want me dead, but I send 'em all to come get me
I rise out my grave, hit 'em in the face with the fifty
I don't really talk, I'm with the action - Jackson
Aired up, get ya hair cut like Toni Braxton
Run deep in the Blood gang, got blood stains on the floor
You all know I get ghost - on the cadillacin'
Run up, put the venom in 'em, goddamn
Coulda' been a man in the mini-van
Pull up on 'em if a nigga really wanna test my gangsta
Bust two from the sun-roof, hop out
Hit him in his toot, doot doot doot
Give a nigga boost, one of the homies might shank ya
No love, too deep, on the creep right through the front door
With a black mask and a fat strap for the ones that be wolfin'
I don't give passes, fuck that, I don't need a Mac
I prefer take 'em in the back so he gets his ass whoopin'
Somebody is a victim, knock 'em out, the homies trippin'
Bitches know just how to pick 'em, babies, I ain't sayin shit
Adios, some niggas dyin' to post up with your mafioso, make a post and point the finger, Brain gon' put 'em in a ditch
Mmmm... You livin' good but I'm in dungeons
You comfortable with the big gats, I'm straight with my gunmen
The Walking Dead - shoot me and I keep comin'
Some wish me 'way, bet I always be slumpin'
Faces of death, hit 'em in the chest with they goodnight
Your bitch on my line, steady cryin', she need good pipe
I be like, "I'm not try'na fuck with you" but then I be like, "Man fuck that, just come through, tonight!"
(Heh ha ha ha)
Bring three, I got one for the homie
Hit 'em up, man, come through, I got mo' for sho'
Bang 'em on a late night, gotta hit 'fo I taste blood
Bust three mo', then send-send that bitch out the do'