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Yo, let me tell y'all something |
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This ain't mother******' rap music, this is mother******' slap music |
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And no ************* ass ******* get slapped the ************* up on a daily basis |
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7L keeping it Godzilla on the track |
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All hail Apathy, the Eso-pterodactyl |
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and yours truly, Celph mother******' Titled |
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[Celph Titled] |
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Yo I'm a mother******' legend in the streets and I don't care about rap |
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When my gun goes off they call me Grand Master Flash |
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Blast your wig off when I pulled his hair trigger |
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Water park your body slide you down the Hudson River |
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Listen carefully my flows be best in the cypher |
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Or come close, get cosy next to the fire |
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I got golf trophies and croquet hammers, propane canisters in my garage next |
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to dead bodies and fertilizer sard |
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With rifles in odd places in the aquarium with fish water |
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Out in the kitchen inside the dish washer |
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Oh so gangsta tell me I'm wrong |
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Frontin' on the block you wasn't sellin' coke on |
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You was singing folk songs |
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Riding your bike with tight coats on |
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Throwing smoke bombs on old folks lawns |
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And thats as gully as you got |
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You ain't throwin' the darts |
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I got nuclear bombs that make you glow in the dark |
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I'm like McGyver with weapons, respect the guard when he shouting |
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I can make a gun with just a Pepsi can and a soldering iron |
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Better duck 'cause these bullets might go through |
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the right view of those tinted light blue bifocals |
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My knife owes you, penetration for sure |
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I'm a rap cannibal on the second leg of my tore |
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Whether you Scorpio or Sagittarius |
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I keep a gat next to my hairy nuts and never scared to bust |
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[Chorus] |
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[Celph Titled] |
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Ain't no need to holla |
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Bring it on and just yell at us |
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Demigodz, we official hell rappers |
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Fight to the death, hold your team for ransom |
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Ready for war whenever we chant this anthem (2X) |
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[Apathy] |
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I leave this track destroyed a blackened void |
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Like the earth's just collided with an asteroid |
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Chicks avoid these ignorant boys |
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who pick apart sexual freaks like Sigmund Freud |
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I'm the ************* *******, slut sticker, ho I'd probably hit you |
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I'm chemically imbalanced baby I got issues |
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The type thats gettin brains on an am-track train |
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While they cracking open the vile of anthrax sprayin |
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Mind of Confucius |
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Tongue fork like Judas |
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Concentration of Buddhist and fists like a pugilist |
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You stupid ******* are too superstitious |
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Terrified of Y2K computer glitches |
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But now it's 2003 we're in a war |
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Where you clutch ya throat, choke & gag on the floor |
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From invisible fumes who reach physical doom |
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Till' we ************* up the planet and gotta' live on the moon |
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I travel underwater, twenty-thousand leagues |
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In a Bio-Dome bubble where I struggle to breathe |
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Where the light doesn't reach so it's trouble to read |
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So I rock off the top while they juggle the beat |
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Where it's so cold humans gotta' cuddle for heat |
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I'll probably loose my mind and chuckle for weeks |
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While up on the streets humans mutate into beasts |
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Then eat the flesh of deceased you'll never rest in peace |
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[Chorus] |
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[Esoteric] |
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I'm sick of you all |
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If rap was hoop give me the ball |
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Then I'll pierce you like Ricky or Paul |
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Cities will fall like Pompei |
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Here's a buck fifty, it's on Shay |
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My words deep like I wrote this *************t upon clay |
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Demigodz, the squad is on a power trip |
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Like Colin Powell on acid doing foul *************t |
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You claim your guns enforce |
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But the only iron you ever pulled was on a golf course |
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(Make money) Yes that is the plan |
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And I know it like my girl knows the back of my hand (haaa) |
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y'all put me to sleep y'all poetry's dull |
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I got a splitting headache from cracking so many skulls |
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I blaze the booth |
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(y'all fake) |
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Shay's the truth |
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I beast mother*******s like Beowulf |
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I need five microphones, four clones of Catherine Zeta-Jones |
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Three whips to rome, two homes and a gold throne |
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I throw stones at glass cribs |
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************* up parties and crack ribs |
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Ya'll throw blanks like mad-libs |
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A.O.T.P. shook rappers call police (siren) |
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I'll leave your brain lookin' like a Jackson Pollock piece |
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I'm an Altered beast |
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Ya'll are geese soon to be deceased |
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Bow to the cheif, you *******s need a preist |
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No peace, step to Esoteric if you want it |
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And get killed by bars like a raging alcoholic |
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[Chorus] |
