歌曲 | Hold Something |
歌手 | Celph Titled |
专辑 | The Gatalog: A Collection of Chaos |
(Verse 1: Dutchmassive) | |
Yo there's a distance here | |
Yo there's a distance there | |
Here a diss, there a diss, everybody's dissin' me | |
Yo I'm out of options | |
The force of impact on local voices stays constant | |
Build a massive anger and now I'm lost in | |
Jealous of my homage, vocals and rough delivery | |
You're sick of me | |
Saddened by the fact we marked history | |
The first amongst professionals, emerging from Junk Planet | |
Planned in tropic states and then we start expanding | |
I'm the ******st lyricist | |
17 and always stressed | |
Cause my ******-up outlook on life I stay vexed | |
I'm the best at what I do; I'm not a man you can defeat | |
Here's advice to all you cipher talk is cheap | |
I delete assholes with abundance of animosity | |
I'm still the ******st even though you ****** up my sound quality | |
An oddity, outcast, that's straight from the normal | |
Now who's the piece of ************t? | |
Ya'll cats is stupid! | |
(Verse 2: Celph Titled) | |
You know it's atomic when you can't stop the rain | |
Ravage bodies for segments and sediments | |
Ain't a damn thing changed | |
My persona precise conducts riveting performances | |
One hundred percentages | |
Vision of succeeding is fictitious like unicorn's with contact lenses | |
What?! | |
Most don't know what | |
Much of those freakin' are stisters staggering to sisters | |
Stops theirs sisters stuttering and study my rhymes | |
You can shake my hand but use the other to count your blessings | |
We be the three hor************ of this art form, odd numbers the essence | |
Fla************ng automatic weapons is blasphemous | |
You'd better hold something heavy | |
When me and the clique combine the counter-reaction's unbelievable | |
Thus inconceivable | |
Yo G-Clef hold me back | |
This ain't your average gun clap rap | |
From New York City to TPA and back | |
Make sure you pick-up a brochure or pamphlet for info | |
On how I single-handed turn drama MC hamlets in to omelets | |
Quite nicely, minus the spicy additive | |
The saddest kids at a loss for adjectives to describe these wacks ************t passages | |
(Wait a minute, wait a minute, cut this ************t ay man, you got to get more hyped up than that) | |
(Yo, I ain’t even feeling you Dutch) | |
(Verse 3: Dutchmassive) | |
Ayo commence with the gibberish | |
Face it, ain't nobody hearing ************t | |
I think too much to be an imitating lyricist | |
My experience lacking of qualities of stability | |
C'mon ya'll are killing me | |
I rearranged identities and ride galactic centipedes | |
More enemies to diss my ego (Nah Duke I'm just confident) | |
Battling Demigods I exit out the Alpha Project | |
Flying objects emit from the arms of order logic | |
You are all now my hostage | |
There is no escape from the carbon glass surrounding | |
You're trapped in your own bull************t ways of gettin' down kid | |
Emotion filled bastard, battle scars I have none | |
Lookin' towards the future makes me wanna purchase mad guns | |
Stunned to the fact that I act like I don't care | |
But I'm not mad at the world, just everybody living here | |
(Dutch, you still wack) | |
(Verse 4: Celph Titled) | |
Yo life's a snitch, God forbid the ************ would bore me | |
I Practice with travel sorcery, transcend velocities immortally | |
Spittin' ammunition in all directions I'm every man's fear | |
You could turn yourself invisible but you still couldn't stand clear | |
I live in the flesh, only when I'm wearin' it | |
Flow active and narrative | |
Speak with many tongues leaving MC's speechless Samaritans | |
I get more applaud than God at the Gospel Awards | |
My acceptance speech was immortalized in stone tablets before the Dinosaurs | |
Beyond the limits that are humanly possible | |
Ripping your hair out follicle by follicle | |
Diabolical vandalist, ****** graffiti artists | |
I'm the Vampire | |
I'd rather tag your name with your cardiovascular excrements | |
Mother****** this is your last will and testament | |
Celph Titled, sincerely yours, the man who exhales toxins | |
Holdin' down the tropic state, we carry knives to cut our boxes | |
Word life, MC's act like they can flow | |
I know you fackin' Jacks cause you as hardcore as the Co************y Show |
Verse 1: Dutchmassive | |
Yo there' s a distance here | |
Yo there' s a distance there | |
Here a diss, there a diss, everybody' s dissin' me | |
Yo I' m out of options | |
The force of impact on local voices stays constant | |
Build a massive anger and now I' m lost in | |
Jealous of my homage, vocals and rough delivery | |
You' re sick of me | |
Saddened by the fact we marked history | |
The first amongst professionals, emerging from Junk Planet | |
Planned in tropic states and then we start expanding | |
I' m the st lyricist | |
17 and always stressed | |
Cause my up outlook on life I stay vexed | |
I' m the best at what I do I' m not a man you can defeat | |
Here' s advice to all you cipher talk is cheap | |
I delete assholes with abundance of animosity | |
I' m still the st even though you up my sound quality | |
An oddity, outcast, that' s straight from the normal | |
Now who' s the piece of t? | |
Ya' ll cats is stupid! | |
Verse 2: Celph Titled | |
You know it' s atomic when you can' t stop the rain | |
Ravage bodies for segments and sediments | |
Ain' t a damn thing changed | |
My persona precise conducts riveting performances | |
One hundred percentages | |
Vision of succeeding is fictitious like unicorn' s with contact lenses | |
What?! | |
Most don' t know what | |
Much of those freakin' are stisters staggering to sisters | |
Stops theirs sisters stuttering and study my rhymes | |
You can shake my hand but use the other to count your blessings | |
We be the three hor of this art form, odd numbers the essence | |
Fla ng automatic weapons is blasphemous | |
You' d better hold something heavy | |
When me and the clique combine the counterreaction' s unbelievable | |
Thus inconceivable | |
Yo GClef hold me back | |
This ain' t your average gun clap rap | |
From New York City to TPA and back | |
Make sure you pickup a brochure or pamphlet for info | |
On how I singlehanded turn drama MC hamlets in to omelets | |
Quite nicely, minus the spicy additive | |
The saddest kids at a loss for adjectives to describe these wacks t passages | |
Wait a minute, wait a minute, cut this t ay man, you got to get more hyped up than that | |
Yo, I ain' t even feeling you Dutch | |
Verse 3: Dutchmassive | |
Ayo commence with the gibberish | |
Face it, ain' t nobody hearing t | |
I think too much to be an imitating lyricist | |
My experience lacking of qualities of stability | |
C' mon ya' ll are killing me | |
I rearranged identities and ride galactic centipedes | |
More enemies to diss my ego Nah Duke I' m just confident | |
Battling Demigods I exit out the Alpha Project | |
Flying objects emit from the arms of order logic | |
You are all now my hostage | |
There is no escape from the carbon glass surrounding | |
You' re trapped in your own bull t ways of gettin' down kid | |
Emotion filled bastard, battle scars I have none | |
Lookin' towards the future makes me wanna purchase mad guns | |
Stunned to the fact that I act like I don' t care | |
But I' m not mad at the world, just everybody living here | |
Dutch, you still wack | |
Verse 4: Celph Titled | |
Yo life' s a snitch, God forbid the would bore me | |
I Practice with travel sorcery, transcend velocities immortally | |
Spittin' ammunition in all directions I' m every man' s fear | |
You could turn yourself invisible but you still couldn' t stand clear | |
I live in the flesh, only when I' m wearin' it | |
Flow active and narrative | |
Speak with many tongues leaving MC' s speechless Samaritans | |
I get more applaud than God at the Gospel Awards | |
My acceptance speech was immortalized in stone tablets before the Dinosaurs | |
Beyond the limits that are humanly possible | |
Ripping your hair out follicle by follicle | |
Diabolical vandalist, graffiti artists | |
I' m the Vampire | |
I' d rather tag your name with your cardiovascular excrements | |
Mother this is your last will and testament | |
Celph Titled, sincerely yours, the man who exhales toxins | |
Holdin' down the tropic state, we carry knives to cut our boxes | |
Word life, MC' s act like they can flow | |
I know you fackin' Jacks cause you as hardcore as the Co y Show |