Tropic States - Celph Titled

Yeah, yo, yo new start baby, what

Genix, all day every day, atomic, hard head baby

(Verse 1: Tino Vega)

Yo, yo, ay, yo in this two triple 0 spitting fire flow

Through your team photos and hit me up

Don’t give them Tampa hoes a dime, they be shiesty

Awful pricey, acting like they too hot for polar icees

They want their diamond watches now, smell the power

Watch me peel out, on a nigga dollar mountain biking

You heard what jigga said right, get to bouncing

Catch a cab or take a city bus ride or something

No blunt puffing for you, what happened to you

You used to be battle-able, this tragedy sounded very true

See that chick in the berry blue skirt, she called me a jerk

For working the wars too long, I had her on her knees and palms

Screaming my song for treating me wrong

The groupie soon to be singing along

It takes not long at all just to feel what I’m on

And Celph putting me on

(And that’s the type of shit we on)

(Verse 2: RK)

Ay, you it’s RK, running to kill

Not your everyday run of the mill emcee

That’s running the field with guns full of steel

Navigating the globe with a compass and shield

I don’t fumble for real, run though block stumbling steel

While rupturing shield and crumpling heels

Living large, dog, but I’m still hungry for mills

I was summoned for skill but let niggas know, lord is coming for real

Covered in teal, with hundreds of pills, cause we popping at will

We mad enough to pop shots at your bill

And in the meantime, we shopping for deals

With lots of appeal, I got to rhyme like a klepto has to steal

I spit more heat than a Glock in your grill

Noting I got is concealed, easily seen like you watching a film

Everything I spit they dropping it real

My words are like motion pictures grubbing for mills

RK the hip hop equivalent of Steven Speil

(Verse 3: Murdock)

Ay, yo we make it happen, never slacking up on the macking

I’m in the money trap in a platinum plaque, jacking

Don’t get caught slipping, mic ripping and cris sipping

32 Glocks spitting infinite rounds when I start flipping

I ain’t tripping, leave your faggoty poverty stricken

My clique will stay shitting and passing out verbal ass whippings

Whether air max, air Jordan’s or Bo Jackson, never relax

And catch a reaction asking for action

It’s Murdock, I know that you hate that I’m rapping

Cocky and jaw clapping cheesing and cheek smacking

You in the club acting, talking about y’all clapping

Ran up on the real, got dropped and ain’t know what happened

(Verse 4: Primetyme)

I’m impossible to burn like TV dinners, impossible to document

You might as well do a project on Blair Witches

Impossible to cross like barbed wired fences

Impossible to peel off like dentures, once I’m hard in your grill like dentists

While you struggle that, I’m juggling bowling pins and play tennis

Some say that I’m cocky and arrogant

Some say my genius is like the shit hidden in Roswell with other evidence

You all bitch like feminists injected with extra estrogen

I don’t play no more, that went out with little league baseball

A high intelligence, you ain’t ready for what I got in store

Further more, you don’t compare to me, not even barely

I have you hiding in the attic with Anne Frank and her family

(Verse 5: Dutchmassive)

Listen when I speak, your whole crew’s delivery is weak

Fuck peace, I want beef, let’s take it to the streets

I eat your whole squad and spit out odd dismembered globs of kids

Who acting hard and got they body frame scarred

You jumping out of cars, we jumping out of planes, survive the impact

And gat you on a subway train (train, train) the Dutchmassive motto

Finish the whole bottle, get weeded and leave your chest hollow

Hollering at whores you hang around with, the loudest pipers in the club

(No doubt, kid) Mega hard junk planet bombard your stereo, scenario

F-L-A team get the dinero

(Verse 6: Celph Titled)

When Celph Titled and the track collide

You see worldwide action

International united chrome passion

Apocalyptic impact that make your bones quiver

My sixth sense is to rob from holy water rivers

And all them other niggas

That don’t speak the truth about the God supreme

A sala to bomb regime

Poly-ing with aolites up in the synagogue

Accurate to details, minus the etcetera

My father told me to bust first, remain calm

And recited words you’ll find in the same song

Unique wisdom, centennial prophesies

8−1-3 monopoly, my Vietnam philosophy

(Verse 7: Vocab)

Sometimes I might bust first depending on my mood

Whether I’m bent or sober, or just laying in a coma

My girl standing next to me saying it’s over

But the only one who could judge me is Jehovah

He was there when I was O-D'd in a coma

My whole world was frozen, thought I was one of the chosen

My life was only worth what you holding

A blue beeper and a dime sack of reefer

20 dollars in my wallet and not a damn cent of profit

Sick and tired of living this way, I’ve got to make it

They legislate rules so I could break it

10, 20, fuck life, I’ve got to kill niggas to make it

And your boy going to eat, so don’t get it mistaken

I’m trying to count hundos until my wrist be shaking