Torsion Fields

Let me see ya hands
 We network power moves
 Keith Murray, Canibus
 Don't make your gun go click, click boom
 Create a whole genre
 The world ain't safe, there's no tomorrow
 Nigga, this is 'Torsion Field'
 Attack the jugular, overkill
 Keith Murray and Canibus, what's the meaning?
 The hardcore niggas in the streets is fiending
 Make you play hide and go seek with your demons
 Ranting, raving, hollering, screaming
 Keith Murray, LOD, oh my god
 Keith Murray, Canibus, so damn hard
 We make them reminisce over you Undergods
 You can meet you maker, step into my face and you is a faker
 Hater, I'll see you later, I'll put you in an incubator
 You'll be dead and me and Canibus will be in Jamaica
 In Jamaica, guns shots up on ya
 Come in like a big pussy, don't you, where I'm gon' dump ya
 Expert flow Germaine, broad head, four-hundred grain
 I was entertained, I saw a hundred slain
 Deranged finder ranger reminder, paint the target
 Walk up to your forehead and paint across it
 Revisit that, give me a minute to re-edit the rap
 Fuck that, I'll put my fist in your trap
 Nigga wanna spit, we spat, that's that
 What the fuck you looking back for it's the last lap
 Got me in a hassle, nigga acting like he wanna wrestle
 Smack DVD gun battle
 Torsion Field twist steel blow the air back off wheel
 You are dragged from the car and killed
 Ski mask face, no trace, rap sound like rape
 We gesticulate like apes on mixtapes
 This high fidelity, fuck what they telling me
 No body address the beat like Canibus and Keith Murray
 "Raw to the floor, raw like 'Reservoir Dogs'"
 Undergods coming with that yes, yes, y'all
 Ayo, the Burnout Brothers, we the truth
 I spit that shit to make me run out the booth
 I got to say peace to my uncle Snoop
 We smoke chronic leaves into a poof
 And everybody knows we some lyrical fools
 When they guess the metaphors they be like, ooh
 Me and Canibus can go for days
 And linger in the mind like displaced rage
 We make that hardcore tailor made
 That make niggas put your face on the front page
 You motherfuckers, you can't compete
 You know you don't wanna go man for man, power on the streets
 It's Bis and Keith, yeah, bring it on
 Bring it on, bring it on, bring it on
 Ha, yeah, we set fire to the world
 And everybody got to resort to the beach, ha
 Yo, what you gonna do when we trap you on the sand? Ha
 It's the grandsons of the Son of Man
 Of the sickest sickest, sickest son of Sam
 Shout out to Killah Priest
 And them hardcore niggas that run the streets
 Yo shout out to my man Mental, shout out to