Celph Titled & Buckwild - styles ain't raw (feat. apathy & chino xl) | Текст песни

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• Celph Titled & Buckwild
• styles ain't raw (feat. apathy & chino xl)

Chorus *repeated*]

I’m ill versatile with the skill no more
Whack MCs wanna flex but their styles they bore

[Verse 1: Apathy]

It’s like I conjure demons, got bitches at my concert screaming
Like a naval recruiter, they truly want the semen
Rip MCs at the seams, leave em stomped in cement
I bring these motherfuckers hell if they don’t repent
Give em aneurisms when I start using big words
So I speak to em real simple like Big Bird
This has been brought to you by the letter A
Better pray you get away when I let Berettas spray
Get erased, get replaced real quick in this rap biz
Like the long answers on a second grade math quiz
Sick of simplifying for you simple-minded simple simons
This is simple science, what I spit is signifying
That my spit is frying, I could spit shine the Sun’s surface
My verse is hot as fire, breathing dragons verses
Hate to burst your bubble but you faggots been bottle-fed
Nodding your noggin to what I’m saying like bobbleheads
I’ll boggle your mind and crack a bottle of wine
Over your dome till your skull’s at the bottom of your spine
So dope you gotta rewind a lot of the rhymes
If Jesus Christ read my notebook then God will go blind

[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Celph Titled]

When I speak it’s a problem, I’m a beast and a goblin
Fucking a MILF that closely resembles Marie Osmond
And I’ve been laying in the cut mind-controlling elephants
Stab your face with a tusk, you’re walking straight into death
I am a black reverend, monitored your stats and saw you needed Monostat 7
Singing eye of the tiger but you wear eyeliner
Mile high club flight attendant going down on a guy skydiver
ED-209 malfunction five hundred rounds I’m dumping
A gattling gun to your dome, react like dynamite inside a pumpkin
Sadistic appendages? My whole body’s evil
Having fun with two guns hidden (some double Desert Eagles)
We cop cars that look like cop cars
And got helicopters to zero in on hella cop cars
And send a missile at your official tissue
Cause your track sound gayer than the the Mr. Wendal instrumental
Detrimental to your squad
I’ll diss its members and dismember body parts
And gift-wrap them for this December
Death is the plan, you will meet Ed McMahon when I clear you out
Cause bombs that I publish be clearing house

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Chino XL]

I’m angry like my mama just beat me with a switch
Madder than Nick Canon when Eminem be dissing his bitch
Big Chino is known to be a wild kid
Y’all refuse to get tested, you know that Pacquiao shit
Wherever there’s drama I’mma fly and find the fucker
Beat him in his face till he’s ugly like Usher’s baby mama
I pray for your death and I pray that I’m the cause of it
Idiot killing a blind man with his own walking stick
My quickest simplest rhythm, I whittle all arithmetics
I memorize ridiculous, I could hypnotise a hypnotist
Bitten less than thirty-three ounces, still considered a leader
My skills are far-fetched like a Labrador Retriever
I mean I keep a lot of bars only rivalled by the god of Mars
Watching Mya’s ass shaking on Dancing With The Stars
My foes plot against me, my verbal molesting deserting me
Putting chairs, I’m electric like Roman Polanski
I’ll put that I target artists on my resume and place them in puddles of blood
You can see eighty miles away
Your survival’s decided by which side of the bed I wake up on
Worship the works of the wordsmith like it was a cross
My effect on women is hard to explain
I could piss on their head and convince them that it’s rain
I’m vain, my six pack making bitches love me more
Get out of line, get punched like you Snookie on the Jersey Shore
My raw thoughts are awful
I’m so twisted I could eat an iron nail and shit out a corkscrew
My written’s displayed inside of Egyptian pantheons
Chino’s bananas, I spit potassium and calcium
You ain’t feeling my spillings? Only a minor loss
Cause I

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