Silence & I Lyrics
| Song | Silence & I |
| Artist | Celph Titled |
| Album | The Gatalog: A Collection of Chaos |
| Download | 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 |
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