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I'll break ya brain cells off at the stem your status is stupider |
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Ap' is a nuclear blast, heart blacker than Lucifer |
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I could sit and write a list of all the ************t I would do to ya |
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Head so big, I rest my fitted cap on Jupiter |
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You aint built like this, you a soft carbon copy |
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A care bear compared to a auto-box rotty |
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For raps like crack I supply to the blacks |
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Drop pipes, cop mic's, say good-bye to your rocks |
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I'm a mother****** star, the status of John Lennon |
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Y'all are ordinary people, singin to John Legend |
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Write a track dissin' Ap'? Better X that out |
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I don't play that, like rap in a redneck's house |
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I could have ya brain cells spinnin quicker than Sprewell's |
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Ya female e-mailin me all ya details |
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I don't dig up dirt, I shake the Earth |
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And I never say names, I wouldn't waste a verse |
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Off of the top I'm hot, and when they dare me to write |
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Prepare to carry a mic to a burial site |
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I'm a pioneer ******' up stereotypes |
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I snatch chains as a kid, made you carry ya bikes |
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I got an addiction to spittin ************t is heroin-like |
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Story teller speak of hell and the American plight |
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Money blower, funny though it seems embarrassin' right? |
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Rock shows, blow the do' on a pair of Air Nike's |
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All Night! |
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[Tak:] |
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Yeah, yeah, yeah, Yo |
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You know the rules, I cruise with a tough band |
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You in the ****** closet with brooms and a dustpan |
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I clean sweep ya fleet, body softer than gelatin |
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Now you on the mic, yeah right my life in ya skeleton dummy |
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I'm in the place, you can tell when it's bloody |
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I freakin', pay for ya face grade and mail you the money |
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I'm ready I'm willin' to watch, spy on seven that flinch |
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Let's see if I don't kill 'em in five seconds or less |
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I keep comin' back like rashes on an infant |
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You don't wanna chance to clash with the magnificent |
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Seven of us, it's heaven but never enough |
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So I tighten the vice grip, so his head'll get crushed |
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Look, I'm out of sight now, deep in this music |
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Leavin' 'em upside-down, fiendin for new ************t |
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Rid cat it's the roll power creep in the booth quick |
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Blow a hole in ya back, just to eat off a soup dish |
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You ************ |
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[Celph Titled:] |
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Yo! |
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The Demigod stands for killa's |
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More specifically we Deadly Entertainers Maniac Ignorant GODzilla's |
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And we, never took the route that mother cook's took |
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Cuz we kept recipes for human flesh in my mother's cookbook |
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Get souffled in more ways then ten |
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Celph Titled flow is chokin' the wind, my favorite pasttime's soakin' in sin |
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The most accurate sharpshooter with no scope |
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Shoot with my left and watch you all die from secondhand smoke |
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I'm reppin' my fam SO, You better act cool |
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My solo make a Ouija Board jump up and slap you dummy |
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You not thinkin' smart |
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I bust so many blamma's and blicka's that I should start a rock band called |
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"Blink & Spark" |
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Sinkin' charts with no harpoons, my arsenal |
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Is sawblade carbon tools slidin' ya coffin through |
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Apathy's insane and I'm the same as my brother |
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I'm like a circus show sniper, I aim for the juggler |
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Catch a case and before the judge can slam down the gavel |
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The whole room duck and hide from grenade shrapnel |
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These rap verses I be breezin' through |
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Cuz I'm like a celebate, under oath, Un-******-Believable |
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[behind turntable scratchin: x2] |
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Demigods, Fort Minor |
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"Ya Ya heard of us" |
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Styles of Beyond |
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"Ya Ya heard of us, the murderous" |
