Alright you guys, listen. Right here I got some paper, a toothbrush, this is a lighter, a bottle of beer, this is a bottle opener, and a pot from a kitchen. (clears throat) Alright you ready?...
I can make a loop out of anything work I’m just surprised you guys didn’t think of this shit first... But fuck it! You can’t touch yours truly You can hardly follow me Much less move me, so When I’m pumping the track You punks in the back better jump when I ask you bastards
Yeah, you got it backwards and misconstrued See I roll like the rat pack groups included In the backpack with the gas mask in Munich 20 deep in a hatchback puffing Cubans
You wanna rap get the lab track qued let’s do this But not on this track You can’t afford it stupid!
Somebody call for the doc quick He’s still on the street top He gotta freaking stain on my high top Reebok’s Snatched off the velcro and choked him with it My headphones rub my neck where I coach you chickens (baaaacock!) Machineshop packs lots of tunes Like Paul Wall mixed tapes leave you chopped and screwed The mess too wild? The yes boys popping their Gats (yaps?) Yeah, can you hear me now? Good get off my sac
Yo, MC am I People call me Celph I got the key to every young bitches chastity belt You clicking even pussy Better yet they beaver I’m gonna leave it to ya heavy With this nine millameta
Yo I see you chillin’ in that cherry beemer Have you ever met a man with canary fever? I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout a piss colored diamond either, word I’m eatin’ birds outta sittin’ on your finger You can teach 'em how to speak Say “Polly want a cracker?” Take 'em to the beach Play volleyball after A little snack.. champagne and pasta.. We don’t gotta run fast girl I know you got asthma
Yeah, sippin’ on jack and diamonds Blowing smoke rings Chillin’ with the pack of Heina’s Your hands to the sky Get a crunk for fun I’m so goddamn high I could punch the sun
Oy... honestly I doesn’t even matter if I use this voice It’d still fuck up you and your boys So piss off mate See? I do what I want Cause your whole bloody lots Just a bunch of cunts
See right now Celph Titled supposed to be in the booth
But he’s stuck inside a toilet getting ready to puke
And he drank a bunch of sisco, vodka, and rum
So Cheapshot’s gonna drop Celph’s verse Here it comes
Find me in the sandwich Gonna roll with the stutter Rolling with a cutter Abuse your mother On a road trip to Barbados with their hoes I’m a hoodrat with a Winnebago I make dough On the block where the bullies where raised to partier You in Idaho grazing pastures getting busy I don’t hold acts unless for something get busy On the ground I like the bear And I stay my grizzly