歌曲 | Silence & I |
歌手 | Celph Titled |
专辑 | The Gatalog: A Collection of Chaos |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
(feat. King Syze, Vinnie Paz) | |
(The Allen Parson's Project:) | |
"Two of a kind...Silence and I | |
We'll find a way to work it out" | |
(Intro: Vinnie Paz) | |
Yeah...Pazmanian Devil | |
Louis Dogs...hahahahahaha | |
AOTP, Celph Titled | |
King Syze, baby | |
Walk with me (hahahahahaha) | |
Yeah... | |
(Verse 1: Vinnie Paz) | |
Yo, I mastered the flow | |
I know death more than Lazarus know | |
And me defeated is infrequent like Nazareth snow | |
Hold your urn into the air so the ashes can blow | |
Hold my burner in the air so the pacifists know | |
That I ain't scared to start a revolution | |
Another fixed election, another injustice, I'ma execute 'em | |
Land of the free, home of the bravest | |
Who you think the victim, who you think the fuckin' slave is? | |
People on the grind, workin' for minimum wages | |
Workin' 9 to 9 and seein' a minimum paper | |
Not to mention the inadequecies of welfare | |
And the lack of a proper universal health care | |
They don't know about the common man | |
They care about distractin' you and hope that Israel will bomb Iran | |
I got a bombin' hand, and it's for George Walker | |
Meet your maker, motherfucker, meet your Lord Father | |
(Chorus: x2) | |
"It's gangsta how we rock, while you watch | |
Attracted to our style, this is how we get down | |
With big jewelry and big guns | |
We get busy, it get grizzly" <- Mobb Deep | |
(Verse 2: King Syze) | |
Yeah, uh... | |
Yo this is concrete rap, Q-Dimension pavin' the way | |
It's a sacred day, waitin' for my patience to pay | |
I'm a horse that's grazing the hay, that's sayin' olé | |
I'm the evil that's born when someone good passes away | |
I'm most good at foul things, the love and hate an unwanted child brings | |
Right, left, life, death, distress that a trial brings | |
The best of the wild kings, that's us | |
This is smoked out rap, get high, angel dust | |
Roll with niggas that be payin' them dues | |
Playas that don't give a fuck if they lose | |
Live they whole life drainin' booze | |
Doc already told me, "Is it rap or smoke?" | |
Is it Bars of Death for life, or a hole in my throat? | |
Hard-headed, livin' my life regrettin' shit | |
This that next shit, Syzemology: the new testament | |
Do this for my niggas Kong and the fam' | |
Yo I do this for them haters sayin' my songs don't bang | |
(Chorus) | |
(Verse 3: Celph Titled) | |
If this industry's a movie, I'm the starrin' actor | |
You're an assistant for the intern of the back up gaffer | |
But I'm only a rapper, standin' on two feet, backstage with four whores | |
On all fours, and that's on all tours | |
How long can I spit a punchline and an ill statement | |
And keep your attention span on my records for entertainment? | |
No explainin' it, you do the math, I did the math teacher | |
Ms. Anita spread wide, under the gymnasium bleachers | |
Fucka, don't matter which herb speak | |
'Cause we got pistols with barrels longer than Big Bird's beak | |
Plus the creamy white powder, yeah we sellin' to Milk D | |
My audio too raw for children, it's filthy | |
I never leave the crib without a pack of Now and Laters | |
I pack now, and *BLAAT* later | |
And ain't no playa you can find rollin' down the strip with hundred rounds and clips | |
Packin' MACs in the back of the Ac' on some Big Pun shit | |
When you hear the "click" your clique run quick, dick | |
We transportin' handguns in minivans; that's the "pistol whip" | |
Celph Titled, the gourmet chef, ripple effect | |
An inconspicuous spic with kitchen mittens when I'm splittin' ya neck | |
(Chorus) |
feat. King Syze, Vinnie Paz | |
The Allen Parson' s Project: | |
" Two of a kind... Silence and I | |
We' ll find a way to work it out" | |
Intro: Vinnie Paz | |
Yeah... Pazmanian Devil | |
Louis Dogs... hahahahahaha | |
AOTP, Celph Titled | |
King Syze, baby | |
Walk with me hahahahahaha | |
Yeah... | |
Verse 1: Vinnie Paz | |
Yo, I mastered the flow | |
I know death more than Lazarus know | |
And me defeated is infrequent like Nazareth snow | |
Hold your urn into the air so the ashes can blow | |
Hold my burner in the air so the pacifists know | |
That I ain' t scared to start a revolution | |
Another fixed election, another injustice, I' ma execute ' em | |
Land of the free, home of the bravest | |
Who you think the victim, who you think the fuckin' slave is? | |
People on the grind, workin' for minimum wages | |
Workin' 9 to 9 and seein' a minimum paper | |
Not to mention the inadequecies of welfare | |
And the lack of a proper universal health care | |
They don' t know about the common man | |
They care about distractin' you and hope that Israel will bomb Iran | |
I got a bombin' hand, and it' s for George Walker | |
Meet your maker, motherfucker, meet your Lord Father | |
Chorus: x2 | |
" It' s gangsta how we rock, while you watch | |
Attracted to our style, this is how we get down | |
With big jewelry and big guns | |
We get busy, it get grizzly" Mobb Deep | |
Verse 2: King Syze | |
Yeah, uh... | |
Yo this is concrete rap, QDimension pavin' the way | |
It' s a sacred day, waitin' for my patience to pay | |
I' m a horse that' s grazing the hay, that' s sayin' ole | |
I' m the evil that' s born when someone good passes away | |
I' m most good at foul things, the love and hate an unwanted child brings | |
Right, left, life, death, distress that a trial brings | |
The best of the wild kings, that' s us | |
This is smoked out rap, get high, angel dust | |
Roll with niggas that be payin' them dues | |
Playas that don' t give a fuck if they lose | |
Live they whole life drainin' booze | |
Doc already told me, " Is it rap or smoke?" | |
Is it Bars of Death for life, or a hole in my throat? | |
Hardheaded, livin' my life regrettin' shit | |
This that next shit, Syzemology: the new testament | |
Do this for my niggas Kong and the fam' | |
Yo I do this for them haters sayin' my songs don' t bang | |
Chorus | |
Verse 3: Celph Titled | |
If this industry' s a movie, I' m the starrin' actor | |
You' re an assistant for the intern of the back up gaffer | |
But I' m only a rapper, standin' on two feet, backstage with four whores | |
On all fours, and that' s on all tours | |
How long can I spit a punchline and an ill statement | |
And keep your attention span on my records for entertainment? | |
No explainin' it, you do the math, I did the math teacher | |
Ms. Anita spread wide, under the gymnasium bleachers | |
Fucka, don' t matter which herb speak | |
' Cause we got pistols with barrels longer than Big Bird' s beak | |
Plus the creamy white powder, yeah we sellin' to Milk D | |
My audio too raw for children, it' s filthy | |
I never leave the crib without a pack of Now and Laters | |
I pack now, and BLAAT later | |
And ain' t no playa you can find rollin' down the strip with hundred rounds and clips | |
Packin' MACs in the back of the Ac' on some Big Pun shit | |
When you hear the " click" your clique run quick, dick | |
We transportin' handguns in minivans that' s the " pistol whip" | |
Celph Titled, the gourmet chef, ripple effect | |
An inconspicuous spic with kitchen mittens when I' m splittin' ya neck | |
Chorus |
feat. King Syze, Vinnie Paz | |
The Allen Parson' s Project: | |
" Two of a kind... Silence and I | |
We' ll find a way to work it out" | |
Intro: Vinnie Paz | |
Yeah... Pazmanian Devil | |
Louis Dogs... hahahahahaha | |
AOTP, Celph Titled | |
King Syze, baby | |
Walk with me hahahahahaha | |
Yeah... | |
Verse 1: Vinnie Paz | |
Yo, I mastered the flow | |
I know death more than Lazarus know | |
And me defeated is infrequent like Nazareth snow | |
Hold your urn into the air so the ashes can blow | |
Hold my burner in the air so the pacifists know | |
That I ain' t scared to start a revolution | |
Another fixed election, another injustice, I' ma execute ' em | |
Land of the free, home of the bravest | |
Who you think the victim, who you think the fuckin' slave is? | |
People on the grind, workin' for minimum wages | |
Workin' 9 to 9 and seein' a minimum paper | |
Not to mention the inadequecies of welfare | |
And the lack of a proper universal health care | |
They don' t know about the common man | |
They care about distractin' you and hope that Israel will bomb Iran | |
I got a bombin' hand, and it' s for George Walker | |
Meet your maker, motherfucker, meet your Lord Father | |
Chorus: x2 | |
" It' s gangsta how we rock, while you watch | |
Attracted to our style, this is how we get down | |
With big jewelry and big guns | |
We get busy, it get grizzly" Mobb Deep | |
Verse 2: King Syze | |
Yeah, uh... | |
Yo this is concrete rap, QDimension pavin' the way | |
It' s a sacred day, waitin' for my patience to pay | |
I' m a horse that' s grazing the hay, that' s sayin' olé | |
I' m the evil that' s born when someone good passes away | |
I' m most good at foul things, the love and hate an unwanted child brings | |
Right, left, life, death, distress that a trial brings | |
The best of the wild kings, that' s us | |
This is smoked out rap, get high, angel dust | |
Roll with niggas that be payin' them dues | |
Playas that don' t give a fuck if they lose | |
Live they whole life drainin' booze | |
Doc already told me, " Is it rap or smoke?" | |
Is it Bars of Death for life, or a hole in my throat? | |
Hardheaded, livin' my life regrettin' shit | |
This that next shit, Syzemology: the new testament | |
Do this for my niggas Kong and the fam' | |
Yo I do this for them haters sayin' my songs don' t bang | |
Chorus | |
Verse 3: Celph Titled | |
If this industry' s a movie, I' m the starrin' actor | |
You' re an assistant for the intern of the back up gaffer | |
But I' m only a rapper, standin' on two feet, backstage with four whores | |
On all fours, and that' s on all tours | |
How long can I spit a punchline and an ill statement | |
And keep your attention span on my records for entertainment? | |
No explainin' it, you do the math, I did the math teacher | |
Ms. Anita spread wide, under the gymnasium bleachers | |
Fucka, don' t matter which herb speak | |
' Cause we got pistols with barrels longer than Big Bird' s beak | |
Plus the creamy white powder, yeah we sellin' to Milk D | |
My audio too raw for children, it' s filthy | |
I never leave the crib without a pack of Now and Laters | |
I pack now, and BLAAT later | |
And ain' t no playa you can find rollin' down the strip with hundred rounds and clips | |
Packin' MACs in the back of the Ac' on some Big Pun shit | |
When you hear the " click" your clique run quick, dick | |
We transportin' handguns in minivans that' s the " pistol whip" | |
Celph Titled, the gourmet chef, ripple effect | |
An inconspicuous spic with kitchen mittens when I' m splittin' ya neck | |
Chorus |