Celph Titled - The Countdown Theory (Ft. Walkmen) | Текст песни

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• Celph Titled
• The Countdown Theory (Ft. Walkmen)

(Celph Titled)
Recommendation, hold somethin' heavy, prepare for combat
Translation: Atomik niggas constantly stay blazin'
Every syllable spit is accurate, holdin' down the immaculate position
I call the shots, perform executive incisions
Speak to my own outside of language barriers for my brethren
The veteran who caught a piece of shrapnel from the Tower of Babel
Praise God, respect is due, while I'm infectin' you
Never spit rhymes in a cipher, I siphon blood from ya veins
With the straw the broke the camel's back, disrespect?
Never that, off the map, chrome nine design specialist
Leave deceased niggas with walkmans in their coffin blastin' my shit
Infinite longevity, reconstruct my structure with dyslexic lepersey
Malevolant ministries revealin' false prophecies, retrieved my past life
They called me Yahweh, slit the throat of Leviathan, slain sideways
Now I just made you a star, enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame
No room for garbage fake five-percent MCs in this real terrain
Drop your album on TDK, listen closely what our CD say
You couldn't put out one record if it was your life you had to pay
I'm feelin' this joint, I hope you niggas is to
Beef with one man in my crew therefore we strike back with the 7-S platoon
(Uh-huh...)

Chorus:
"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 murder 1 lyric at your door" --> Method Man
*repeat 4X

(Tino Vega)
The Spanish Prince, my mind's convinced, dent all intelligence
Those who breathe, freeze at the sight of elegance
Cause static jolts similar to lightning bolts
Slash clans of devilish cults, catch boostive energy (energize!)
Deadly antidotes inflict a fatal remedy
Walkmen triangulate to form a spiritual entity (are you feelin' me?)
Nigga, my rugged data will cause your mind structure to shatter
Memory banks has been erased, Celph, Storm and the Soldier
All up in ya face, leavin' glowing footmarks throughout the underground
No room for feeble minds and shook hearts
Start the countdown, soldiers in the killing fields
I hold up my shield to block immortal curses
Spittin' verses, peep my verbal slang analogy
To a dragon spittin' flames, while the others are being bothered
By hungry pitbulls that drool when they look at you
The 7th Squadron droppin' toxins in the place of oxygen, what!

Chorus:
"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2 murder 1 lyric at your door" --> Method Man
*repeat 4X

(Storm Trupa)
Nova watchin' over your shoulder, roamin' through an open folder
Slippin' through a paradox, mental coma
Eternal Nightol, impact from a rhymin' wreckin' ball
One on one street compete, complete
Composition, physique physician, fight with might
Strike precise with my device
I ignite my vocal tenacity, define mankind
Flux capacitate linear time, enigma, snake slither
Extension across the Nile River, bless myself
The Ark Angel - my fingers make contemporary poetry
Historical, biographical oracle
Open memories like new vicinities
Fuck those who oppose me, I throw heat ferociously
Cleverly expose the life that you live to the Walkmen
Nomadic men, commit mad sin
In the Vatican upon the day of Armageddon
Tai Chi master, absorbin' the powers from the Seven
Tectonic tremblin' witnessin' the wrath that you're facin'
Atomik devastation - strategically
Organize elevation, the dynasy, mathematically
Strong minds combine to redesign the fabric of time
On some enormous shit, now watch the clock tick

* the sound of an old clock ticking *

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