(Intro)
Yes, yes y’all we going to keep it going strong
All night long (what) we don’t even believe in dumbing out
(Never that) Yo we got a special guest in the place
By the name of Celph Titled (Yeah, yeah)
The Rubix Cuban (What up, what up)
What up Celph, man (Yeah)
Yo, how you doing?
(Celph Titled: Yo, ain’t nothing man, just down and dirt about my scratch)
Oh word?
(Yo know what I mean)
So you going to kick something for the listeners or what?
(Oh, no doubt, yo)
Ok
(Verse 1: Celph Titled)
Now listen up, I ain’t one for all of that tough guy chat
I come from East Waters Avenue, where niggas cock they gats at
Learned how to stack funds without pushing crack crumbs
Credit card fraud from pay phones getting cash sums
Back in ’91, old school Tampa shit
Robbing lowriders for they tape decks, amps and kits
And we was never shook of cops
If we saw you getting shaped up
We’d turn the barbershop into a butcher shop
Nowadays we more chill but get more ill
Keep a burner for protection like I got a force field
No more Juice Crew, just faggots wearing Fubu
But that’s cool, cause F.U. I wouldn’t want to B.U
Niggas creep through with firearms that’ll bang your back
A rotten ski mask that look more like a ninja mask
I rap like a trained assassin marine, piece the time machine
Write in night vision now my rhymes are green
I represent Demigodz and Army of the Pharoses
Collecting old guns, spending bread on ran toast
But if I’m getting on a track and you ain’t as nice as me
I up the fee, spit a verse and charge you for the price of three
Yeah and that’s a rap
A rap for all you string bean mother fuckers
Oh my bad, my bad, can we curse
(Yeah, don’t sweat it Celph)
Oh, alright, my bad
That’s a rap for you string bean mothers day advocates
You know what I mean, show some love to your mom
I know I did
