Guerilla Orchestra - Celph Titled

Yeah, I like this one, yeah

Yo, Celph, Apathy and Tino Vega, yo

Unnh hunh (Set it on him like that)

Tampa Florida, baby yeah

(Verse 1: Tino Vega)

Ay, yo, pass me a hat about these black ashes

Be out as fast as I can your man got bodied

In the back of a stolen Ac

By black trash baggers, what’s going on

Nowadays we got gay rappers

Singing our songs and hearing me wrong

Till they repping it strong baby, all day long

Cliques rapping about making moves

Playing it calm climbing up Jacobs ladder

See a mill and we on

What hold down fort, you thought wrong

Blood sport, loud in the place, I’m loud in your face

Sirens mad loud when they chase

Sick of them jakes, I want to put sticks in they steaks, yo

Walkman through sales, you caught attacking them stakes

Keep dropping the hot shit for the payers to hate, you know

So fell me, if not, I don’t care, throw your girls panties in the air

That’s how we on the keep, flaunting them drawers

We’re going to pawn them

Your man keep talking that spit, I’m going to dog him

Got dreams of marrying a Latin chick, a rapper bitch from Harlem

You can ask the surfer dudes and hippies if I’m awesome

Yo, back up off him this niggas too hot, run in your spot

Leaving with everything you got

Don’t believe me best not, put the stress on the dreadlocks

Niggas get props, lick 10 shots for hip hop

What, what?

Bring it on, you don’t want it, what

(Verse 2: Celph Titled)

Yo, unh, yo

I don’t get no iller than Celph Titled

For God sakes

We move in silence except for the sound

The Glock makes

Where I’m from, we never name names

We just be pointing infrared beams

And watch the barrel start to spit flames

Insane from birth, flip game with words

Inflict pain and it hurts

In actuality, I’m know astronomically

Leave a mother fucker split in half

I heard you talking this and that

We taking no shorts like church dress codes

I need a bitch that’ll stash my guns inside of casseroles

Test my gangster and the outcome is straight A’s

Bullet holes from AKs, wounds bleeding for eight days

It’s kind of fucked up how we some raw niggas

That’ll spit some hardcore shit over beats like this

I must be out my fucking mind without a doubt

My fam keep it gorilla with banana clips

We let the monkey out nigga

(Verse 3: Apathy)

Yeah, unh unh unh, what

Yeah, me and your girl will take a walk through the park

Late night in the dark, I’ll caress the back of her neck

Then rip out her heart, sharp mentality

Apathy grips gats, spits raps bitch slaps chicks back

I’m funky chewing tic tacs cause after I eat flesh

My breath smells like death

After I fuck chicks, their breath smells like sweat

I’ll lock it down, cock the pound

Be careful who you talk around

Cops found another mic to draw the white chalk around

And while you small cats are trying to bust off gats

I got to wreck it over records, so I dust off wax

Ap, Celph and Tino can slam it like we’re Tino Santana

From Tampa Bay to CT my gamma rays change my brain

Like Lou Ferrigno, I’ll spit flows to rip shows and get dough

I’ll stick hoes who lick dick until it blows

I’ll hit Foes the clip goes and gats, you’ll never test Ap

So just put away your raps, you’re wack