Fallout Lyrics
| Song | Fallout |
| Artist | Celph Titled |
| Album | The Gatalog: A Collection of Chaos |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| (Chorus: Dutchmassive) | |
| Don’t ever push yourself against’ the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we’re going to shatter your jaw | |
| (Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you’re fucking with ‘em all) | |
| (Verse 1: Celph Titled) | |
| (Yo, who the fuck are you?) | |
| Don Juan steeze be razor splitting you | |
| Rubix Cuban unsolvable, the high tech arsenals | |
| Shiny metal things spit something horrible | |
| Vocal arrangements inaudible | |
| Pistol whip you | |
| Mandatory, not option, what you stupid? | |
| My clique consists of dirty dogs, and Cuban mafia children | |
| Plastic explosive play dough the money is mine if I say so | |
| Ain’t no thing in this universe that could ever be my match | |
| Celph Titled without fly raps is like Slick Rick without an eye patch | |
| Now how you like that? | |
| Yup, my recipes dope I’m used to the game like Jeopardy under the oath | |
| And lethal like white boys in trench coats | |
| Straight up and down I’m serving niggas with 16 bar sentences | |
| My spoken word is contagious and cancerous | |
| I cancel kids like answering messages left by solicitation receptionists | |
| Like my man Dutchmassive, we aggressively repping shit | |
| (Ain’t no question kid) | |
| Lurking in the everglades | |
| While you at home watching cartoons | |
| I’ll be sitting on the dock of the bay, with a harpoon | |
| (Chorus: Dutchmassive) | |
| Don’t ever push yourself against’ the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we’re going to shatter your jaw | |
| (Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you’re fucking with ‘em all) | |
| Don’t ever push yourself against’ the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we’re going to shatter your jaw | |
| (Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you’re fucking with ‘em all) | |
| (Verse 2: Walkman) | |
| And pissed off the wrong one | |
| Hand break my pencil piece when I write this | |
| A head storm shatter skulls | |
| Speaking of blood sport, splatter over all pearly white | |
| Fresh contest blazing adrenaline behaving rude and absurd | |
| While the out of states criticize from the outside viewing | |
| In observing and stressing us, the tropics | |
| Fuck all you corn hole fuckers with no logic | |
| Brining the heat, scorching your bare feet | |
| Sprinting butt naked, long distance | |
| Decking moving objects, direct shots but beaming optics | |
| And that’s the instincts of a natural at time | |
| If you ain’t heard right, I split bricks, strictly certified blaze shit | |
| Light speed I’m sonically inclined with godly insight | |
| Niggas get blow to bits like megabytes | |
| Can’t fuck with this, alright | |
| Storm dash trooper, the cybernetic intelligence | |
| The 5th element regiment, crush your residence into sediments | |
| Encrypted flows with the centrifugal dialect | |
| The Puerto Rican cybernetic one | |
| Authentic while you synthetic son | |
| I hold down the galaxy with unanimous connections | |
| Quantum physics expert ripping holes right through your guess shirt | |
| The seven squadron dynasty get down and dirty violently | |
| Walkmen and freestyles with the emcee seeking missles | |
| Atomically stay blazing accurately bout to black out of this | |
| Is Tampa’s side of things and that’s what 8-1-3’s about | |
| (Chorus: Dutchmassive) | |
| Don’t ever push yourself against’ the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we’re going to shatter your jaw | |
| (Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you’re fucking with ‘em all) | |
| Don’t ever push yourself against’ the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we’re going to shatter your jaw | |
| (Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you’re fucking with ‘em all) | |
| (Verse 3: Dutchmassive) | |
| Yo, I sense anger, how you going to diss a total stranger | |
| Talk about my records, I’m a have to rearrange you | |
| Feel this laser, you’re not who you pretend to be | |
| Knock off your identity and aim for longevity | |
| Fuck your concepts, I can do without your comments | |
| The liveliest player on a catcher burning comet | |
| You make me vomit, sick of all your trends | |
| If I break all keyboards before tracks the wackness ends | |
| Constantly stay blazing, F-L-A is dumb hot | |
| No glocks baby boy, I’ll smash your jaw with a cinder block | |
| Hard knock not, I’m just a little anti-social | |
| We word wide, while y’all still think we local | |
| My name is Dutchmassive, remember that shit | |
| I’m killing kids, girls that diss me, get the di-dick | |
| Only got a few close friends and that’s way too much | |
| Cause soon they all jock us when we blow the fuck up |
| Chorus: Dutchmassive | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Verse 1: Celph Titled | |
| Yo, who the fuck are you? | |
| Don Juan steeze be razor splitting you | |
| Rubix Cuban unsolvable, the high tech arsenals | |
| Shiny metal things spit something horrible | |
| Vocal arrangements inaudible | |
| Pistol whip you | |
| Mandatory, not option, what you stupid? | |
| My clique consists of dirty dogs, and Cuban mafia children | |
| Plastic explosive play dough the money is mine if I say so | |
| Ain' t no thing in this universe that could ever be my match | |
| Celph Titled without fly raps is like Slick Rick without an eye patch | |
| Now how you like that? | |
| Yup, my recipes dope I' m used to the game like Jeopardy under the oath | |
| And lethal like white boys in trench coats | |
| Straight up and down I' m serving niggas with 16 bar sentences | |
| My spoken word is contagious and cancerous | |
| I cancel kids like answering messages left by solicitation receptionists | |
| Like my man Dutchmassive, we aggressively repping shit | |
| Ain' t no question kid | |
| Lurking in the everglades | |
| While you at home watching cartoons | |
| I' ll be sitting on the dock of the bay, with a harpoon | |
| Chorus: Dutchmassive | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Verse 2: Walkman | |
| And pissed off the wrong one | |
| Hand break my pencil piece when I write this | |
| A head storm shatter skulls | |
| Speaking of blood sport, splatter over all pearly white | |
| Fresh contest blazing adrenaline behaving rude and absurd | |
| While the out of states criticize from the outside viewing | |
| In observing and stressing us, the tropics | |
| Fuck all you corn hole fuckers with no logic | |
| Brining the heat, scorching your bare feet | |
| Sprinting butt naked, long distance | |
| Decking moving objects, direct shots but beaming optics | |
| And that' s the instincts of a natural at time | |
| If you ain' t heard right, I split bricks, strictly certified blaze shit | |
| Light speed I' m sonically inclined with godly insight | |
| Niggas get blow to bits like megabytes | |
| Can' t fuck with this, alright | |
| Storm dash trooper, the cybernetic intelligence | |
| The 5th element regiment, crush your residence into sediments | |
| Encrypted flows with the centrifugal dialect | |
| The Puerto Rican cybernetic one | |
| Authentic while you synthetic son | |
| I hold down the galaxy with unanimous connections | |
| Quantum physics expert ripping holes right through your guess shirt | |
| The seven squadron dynasty get down and dirty violently | |
| Walkmen and freestyles with the emcee seeking missles | |
| Atomically stay blazing accurately bout to black out of this | |
| Is Tampa' s side of things and that' s what 813' s about | |
| Chorus: Dutchmassive | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Verse 3: Dutchmassive | |
| Yo, I sense anger, how you going to diss a total stranger | |
| Talk about my records, I' m a have to rearrange you | |
| Feel this laser, you' re not who you pretend to be | |
| Knock off your identity and aim for longevity | |
| Fuck your concepts, I can do without your comments | |
| The liveliest player on a catcher burning comet | |
| You make me vomit, sick of all your trends | |
| If I break all keyboards before tracks the wackness ends | |
| Constantly stay blazing, FLA is dumb hot | |
| No glocks baby boy, I' ll smash your jaw with a cinder block | |
| Hard knock not, I' m just a little antisocial | |
| We word wide, while y' all still think we local | |
| My name is Dutchmassive, remember that shit | |
| I' m killing kids, girls that diss me, get the didick | |
| Only got a few close friends and that' s way too much | |
| Cause soon they all jock us when we blow the fuck up |
| Chorus: Dutchmassive | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Verse 1: Celph Titled | |
| Yo, who the fuck are you? | |
| Don Juan steeze be razor splitting you | |
| Rubix Cuban unsolvable, the high tech arsenals | |
| Shiny metal things spit something horrible | |
| Vocal arrangements inaudible | |
| Pistol whip you | |
| Mandatory, not option, what you stupid? | |
| My clique consists of dirty dogs, and Cuban mafia children | |
| Plastic explosive play dough the money is mine if I say so | |
| Ain' t no thing in this universe that could ever be my match | |
| Celph Titled without fly raps is like Slick Rick without an eye patch | |
| Now how you like that? | |
| Yup, my recipes dope I' m used to the game like Jeopardy under the oath | |
| And lethal like white boys in trench coats | |
| Straight up and down I' m serving niggas with 16 bar sentences | |
| My spoken word is contagious and cancerous | |
| I cancel kids like answering messages left by solicitation receptionists | |
| Like my man Dutchmassive, we aggressively repping shit | |
| Ain' t no question kid | |
| Lurking in the everglades | |
| While you at home watching cartoons | |
| I' ll be sitting on the dock of the bay, with a harpoon | |
| Chorus: Dutchmassive | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Verse 2: Walkman | |
| And pissed off the wrong one | |
| Hand break my pencil piece when I write this | |
| A head storm shatter skulls | |
| Speaking of blood sport, splatter over all pearly white | |
| Fresh contest blazing adrenaline behaving rude and absurd | |
| While the out of states criticize from the outside viewing | |
| In observing and stressing us, the tropics | |
| Fuck all you corn hole fuckers with no logic | |
| Brining the heat, scorching your bare feet | |
| Sprinting butt naked, long distance | |
| Decking moving objects, direct shots but beaming optics | |
| And that' s the instincts of a natural at time | |
| If you ain' t heard right, I split bricks, strictly certified blaze shit | |
| Light speed I' m sonically inclined with godly insight | |
| Niggas get blow to bits like megabytes | |
| Can' t fuck with this, alright | |
| Storm dash trooper, the cybernetic intelligence | |
| The 5th element regiment, crush your residence into sediments | |
| Encrypted flows with the centrifugal dialect | |
| The Puerto Rican cybernetic one | |
| Authentic while you synthetic son | |
| I hold down the galaxy with unanimous connections | |
| Quantum physics expert ripping holes right through your guess shirt | |
| The seven squadron dynasty get down and dirty violently | |
| Walkmen and freestyles with the emcee seeking missles | |
| Atomically stay blazing accurately bout to black out of this | |
| Is Tampa' s side of things and that' s what 813' s about | |
| Chorus: Dutchmassive | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Don' t ever push yourself against' the wall | |
| Cause everybody at a time knows it gets raw | |
| And if you step, we' re going to shatter your jaw | |
| Cause if your fucking with one kid, yo, you' re fucking with ' em all | |
| Verse 3: Dutchmassive | |
| Yo, I sense anger, how you going to diss a total stranger | |
| Talk about my records, I' m a have to rearrange you | |
| Feel this laser, you' re not who you pretend to be | |
| Knock off your identity and aim for longevity | |
| Fuck your concepts, I can do without your comments | |
| The liveliest player on a catcher burning comet | |
| You make me vomit, sick of all your trends | |
| If I break all keyboards before tracks the wackness ends | |
| Constantly stay blazing, FLA is dumb hot | |
| No glocks baby boy, I' ll smash your jaw with a cinder block | |
| Hard knock not, I' m just a little antisocial | |
| We word wide, while y' all still think we local | |
| My name is Dutchmassive, remember that shit | |
| I' m killing kids, girls that diss me, get the didick | |
| Only got a few close friends and that' s way too much | |
| Cause soon they all jock us when we blow the fuck up |
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