(Verse 1: Celph Titled)
Yeah, you goddamn right it’s Celph Titled
The granddaddy grenade, mother fucker
With my man 7L the devastator
This is how we do this shit
Yo, my most prized possession is my knife collection
All types of different slices selections, the nicest
Weapons from the Get Right Reverend
Wiling out on niggas with outlandish rage
Plus I’m known to tote the iron like a Spanish maid
That’s going to body you, really like straighten you out
Don’t think I won’t put the barrel straight in your mouth
How many times can I write about the same old shit
I guess I won’t find out until y’all stop buying it
But until then it’s guns, bitches, punch lines and human accords
There’s kids across the world to argue over computers
Who’s the best? Celph Titled cause he writes heaters
Caught so many bodies he should be the MVP wide receiver
I seen your chick where the groupies be
And when she’s in my bed sounding off key like Looney-D
You out looking for the bitch, all nervous and shit
I took her to the A-Train and wrote this verse for 7L’s mix
It’s dangerous to play the role of a gangster
When you dealing with a gangster who employs many gangsters
Suffered and lifted on my back to make a queens soldier
Southside will flatten you like steam rollers
(Verse 2: Big Scoob)
Unh hunh, Big Scoob baby
AKA Johnny mother fucking Famous
Brooklyn, all day, you heard, trend setters
I fuck hos, dimes, bitches in they prime
Hood rat chickens who ain’t got one dime
Don’t give a fuck if you swole
I fill you with holes
Niggas will think you’re Kwame
From the dots in your clothes
With a chain in your rhyme
Wrist that don’t shine
Niggas want to be jigga but ain’t got one dime
Everybody hot, everybody pop glock
Man you only seen a gun cause your pops a cop
I kick real shit, Brownsville on the hill shit
Big Scoob, Trend Setters, something you can feel shit
I Spray your block like graffiti, what
And wait for 5-0 to get an autographed CD
None of y’all niggas spit lines like these
I’ll have your bitch yelling please Hercules, Hercules
Its war, it’s like you a dead man walking
Trend Setters tired of you bitch niggas talking
(Verse 3: Terra)
Unnh, Terra, new shit, ha ha
Ay yo, there come a time
When everything must change
When y’all gotta stop selling the fuck out
That time is right now
You better ask about me, I’m the thug bitch
Whip out a shank and a dick in your back
Shit on your track, I get it down now
They be calling me fire, the rapper die bitch
The assassin for hire
Took everything I was taught to see what I can do
Fuck you hating ass bitches, you heard, you niggas too
The ain’t your local radio station, come on dog
This ain’t a broadcast live from the parking lot in the mall
These circles in the streets will get you the fuck hurt
And the last thing you want to do is spit your hottest shit first
How you want it dog? In your ass or your mouth
And you ain’t got that much time because my shit is about to come out
And I will fuck, bite your fucking head off too
Out with a 4,5 and 6 like kiss, a range too
If you truly a queen, then I’m talking to you
I’m the heir to the thrown and I’m coming the fuck through
It’s my turn Terra
