Hold Something Lyrics
| Song | Hold Something |
| Artist | Celph Titled |
| Album | The Gatalog: A Collection of Chaos |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| (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 |
| 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 |
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