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(feat. Celph Titled, Majik Most) |
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[Celph Titled:] |
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Now I ain't gon' make this easy if you got health complications |
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Stick chords with my pitchfork, it's Hell's obligation |
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I'm like Ming the Merciless; when the bullets sting |
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They'll be hurtin less than the flames cause they'll be burnin flesh |
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Scorchin the hair off your scalps and faces |
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Now your crew looks like Onyx as leukemia patients~! |
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Too much lighter fluid'll do it, explode your whole chest |
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Leave you "Black on Both Sides" like we barbecuin Mos Def! |
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And I don't hate people by race color or creed |
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To put it simple, I'm just hatin every mother****** thing that breathes |
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And I'm so raw, I make everything in the freezer look well done |
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Celph Titled is hell son, psychopath with a welding fun (hehehe) |
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And we ain't holdin back, we holdin macs |
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M-1, 12 gauge and a couple G-36 HK's |
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And they blaze, every round off; bullets fly |
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Hit your best man and shoot your ************'s wedding gown off~! |
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[Chorus: Celph Titled (Majik Most)] |
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WHO - the ****** wanna war with our crew |
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WHAT - the ****** y'all cats gonna do |
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WHEN - we start to fire the lead |
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WHERE - your thoughts rest inside of your head |
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Left fist, right fist, one gun, two gun |
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You just, ****** up, look what, you've done |
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(Left fist, right fist, one gun, two gun) |
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(You just, ****** up, look what, you've done) |
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[Majik Most:] |
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You're not a dunn, you're a white kid named Dan |
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Tossed you and your fam through an industrial fan |
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It's Majik Most, everybody knows who I am |
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German fans, SoundScan puttin money in my hand |
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I'm the type to host a luncheon in a dungeon, maaan |
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And torture your grandma while I'm munchin, maaan |
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I'll rip you out the picture like a dolphin Dolph Lundgren |
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I'll battle you, your crew, your gay-ass cousin |
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My name buzzin on the streets? Nah that's my chainsaw |
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Wrap your head in C4, launch it off the seesaw |
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You never seen raw before I deattach your skull |
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Now you look like Skeletor with a positive AIDS test |
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Stressed out, you get punched in your mouth |
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Punt heads up North, and they land down South |
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Wit'cha body in the desert you won't be so fresh |
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When vultures pick at your neck and have a picnic in your chest |
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[Chorus] |
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[Celph Titled:] |
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Yeah yo |
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Now, let's get it straight ****** the name's Celph Titled |
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Don't just hold weight, this man right here hold chrome plates |
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And gun parts, assorted explosives |
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That take you out of your body, talkin to Jesus like Joseph |
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And I'll, split up your skull into fragments from the gat pressure |
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Cause you don't even look evil, you just a bad dresser (ha ha) |
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When me and Majik Most shoot up and grip tecs |
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We shoot until your polyester ************rt turn to fishnet! |
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[Majik Most:] |
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Yo, wanna know the difference? Yo just check this |
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I'm a star in a stretch limo, you know my steez |
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You at the bus terminal, with a terminal disease |
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I crush your egg chest, leave your face faceless |
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Neck brace and abrasions, your face in the pavement |
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You'll be pavin the way, for Teethless Entertainment |
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You think you're the Rainman? I'm reignin, like Raiden |
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Raisin my hands, shootin lightning bolts at your fam |
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[Chorus] |
