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Way Of The Gun

This song is by Celph Titled and appears on the compilation album The Gatalog: A Collection of Chaos (2006).

Abandon ship, esoterics at the landing strip,
Plan to rip your clan to bits,
You standing stiff like you inadimate,
The jam I spit ???
They try to cancel it and sample it,
Till this there's a better way of understanding it,
I know you cannot handle it,
I'm on some fancy shit, while your crib is candle lit,
But still the candidate, quick to dismantle your mauscript,
You think you scare me with banana clips,
Well there's no chance of it,
My no control vocals, roll over ya patrol,
I'm pokin holes in heads like I'm makin' totem poles,
Whether chokin souls (Demigodz rep to the death),
So sucka step to the left, I'm eatin all my older goals,
Reading holy scrolls, like I'm reading yesterdays news,
On the funny strip, come 'n' rip, test shay 'n' lose,
Yo I'm rippin ???, ayo you best stay in 2's,
Cuzz' my split personality is splittin y'all crews.

~~~~Celph Titled~~~~~
Celph Titled's on some real insane sick shit,
Cut the presidents face off,
And rob a mother fucking bank with it,
I sleep with a machete motherfucker I got guns too,
That'll put holes in your torso big enough to jump through,
We don't recite rap verses, instead we spit grenades,
You can't write a rhyme without some fucked up shit to say,
When I question you, I won't speak proper ill ask you,
Fuck a meat cleaver, we got heaters 'n' mac millys,
Act silly and wittness the flame of the cannonblast,
Recycle your calcium and use your scar tissue to wipe my ass,
Send in recruits and I'm turning special forces,
Into nothing but skeletons rocking berets and burnt musket blades,
In hells kitchen we keep the shells spittin',
Don't thing its strange we use our block as a shootin range,
Highway to heaven or the devils course,
I got explosives that'll make your body land in like ??? coffin.

~~~~Lord Digga~~~~
Call me dick scott heron, or heroin,
The dope crews veteran, y'all think that your better than?
Y'all niggaz better lay low,
I flip MC's, like brick of yayo,
Y'all from montreal you get your brain exposed,
Brook non time bomb, watch me explode,
Extra magazines, watch me reload,
I gotta spit barcode, but niggaz can't scare me,
Rap with no legs, so niggaz can't stand me,
I got more jewels then Stanley, your peppermint patty flows,
Nothing but candy, y'all sweet and weak,
And your fuckin' up my teeth, cuzz' your all I eat,
Reverend run with guns, but I don't preach,
Bust techs get wet like, sex on a beach,
Call me a robbin leech, I wanna blood money,
I smoke MC's like the gummys, y'all ain't gully,
My nigga apathy runnin' up in your baby mothers,
I'm fuckin' your sisters, duck tapin your brothers,
Cuzz' them fools didn't believe, that we brothaz we other,
Got styles for life, y'all lifestyle rubbers

I got metal magnum like I'm megatron,
Metamorph to a weapon, whippin bitches if they steppin,
I'm rippin tissue, the bloody mess,
I'm missin' some vital pieces inside of my cerebellum,
Building adrenaline till I'm tremblin,
And tripling my physical mass, to clash with crews,
I blast fast and smash fags I'm bad news,
Ill bruise brains and rapidly, rip apart your anatomy,
'Cause apathy is fatter then a phat farm faculty,
Ap's known for spittin', plus shots I'm lickin',
Got more biscuits then kentucky fried chicken,
Bitch chillen with thugs, that'll fill you with slugs,
Since you was pushin hot wheels across your livingroom rug,
Ima demigod, god dammit, god please forgive me,
God bless, but god forbid kids try to spit for me,
I fuck you up spiritually, mentally and physically,
Father please forgive wack MC's tryna rap with me

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