Undergods
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

N***a, this is 'Torsion Field'
Attack the jugular, overkill
Keith Murray and Canibus, what's the meaning?
The hardcore n***as in the streets is fiending

Make you play hide and go seek with your demons
Ranting, raving, hollering, screaming
[Unverified] 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

N***a wanna spit, we spat, that's that
What the fuck you looking back for it's the last lap
Got me in a hassle, n***a 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 n***as 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 n***as that run the streets
Yo shout out to my man Mental, shout out to bis