| Yeah, uh, yo
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| Let me spark this
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| I’m already wound up
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| Lets burn it from the ground up
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| Turn the fuckin' sound up
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| Allow drunks spittin' on this underground cut
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| Come around
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| It’s goin' down like the town slut
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| Keep your mouth shut
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| I’m quick to set it
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| Kid forgot it
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| I get gas then piss unleaded
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| Your shits pathetic
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| Slip before your wigs beheaded
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| Disconnected and ripped apart like a Christmas present
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| Flip this record
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| We can battle on the instrumental
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| Battle to a quicker tempo
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| Battle with a pen and pencil
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| Your girls digits in my pocket
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| That’s coincidental
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| But if they had a pimp Olympics I would win a medal
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| I’ve been a rebel for the most of my life
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| I go to your show with a knife, start provoking a fight
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| Jump on stage just when the moment is right
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| And scream «open the mic»
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| Your opponent gets sliced
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| Out the mouth comes fire
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| Who ignite the fullest?
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| Celph Titled feed you lead, make you bite the bullet
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| Talk imaginary crime stories and get dealt shots
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| Surprise you with the Kalico and get shell shocked
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| And Hells hot
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| You don’t wanna get caught there
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| When it’s warfare we suit up and carry fours in pairs
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| I’ll rob a bitch a too
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| Snatch her purse with the quickness
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| Not Jamaican but I love to jerk chickens
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| Niggas disrespect I never keep it on wax
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| We load up the vans
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| With soldiers and fully loaded macs
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| Crashing threw the windows of your crib
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| Blastin' shots
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| Wearing Navy Seal suits to look like astronauts
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| Don’t give a fuck about rap
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| You talking thug shit
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| Drain your bodily fluids
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| Now you lack substance
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| Whether east or west
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| You bring beef round here
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| I’ll launch a missile to your city till the coast is clear
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| Ayo you feeling me?
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| Well get your mittens out my trousers
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| Or we’ll deal a beating out like a clique of rowdy bouncers
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| You sit around announcers, got nothing to say
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| Like your girl when I’m standing up and fucking her face
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| Shit
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| We take shots like they don’t effect us
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| With more rounds of quarters than bankers and pay phone collectors
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| I slip licks with thick chicks and stay so erected
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| As if my dick fits in a slick slip like Lego connectors
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| Hey don’t forgot this
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| Jay Love & Celph
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| And J-Zone spit heat like they come from Hell
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| When I’m pissy I can dump as well
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| When I’m not, I’m just pissed off
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| So your two choices are lump or swell
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| Chicks tell me I’m something else, the way I eat snatch
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| In a pair of cushion knee pads and safety mats
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| And lately that’s been the reasons they hate me rappin'
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| Cause my dick disappears in your chicks mouth like baby aspirin
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| Y’all say Zone is a one trick pony (and he talks about is hoes)
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| I say Zone got a long dick, blow me (mothafucka)
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| The more y’all hate, the more the money come
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| I ain’t been unanimous loved since I was 21 with Music For Tu Madre
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| My first LP?
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| All that critical acclaim?
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| Shit, I was up in Starbucks and couldn’t afford a latte
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| But now I talk trash and bring Hell to the people
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| You’re not a broad or a bank teller… I don’t want to see you
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| Too cheap to go clubbin' (yep)
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| Too ugly to model (uh huh)
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| Too broke to drink Cris, but I’ll front with the bottle
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| J-Zone give a dime to record (what?!)
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| Bitch please, rich or poor, y’all ain’t worthy to wash my drawers
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| ARC on the beat (Record Collector)
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| I, Couple and Celph use your bathroom and pee on the seat
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| And fuck a holistic hoe
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| I’d rather have a hoe with lipstick blow on my balls like a piccolo
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| Now hold up
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| You can’t have a jam without the engineer man
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| It’s double J. Brown in this bitch, jeah!
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| I, get into your psyche, don’t care if you like me
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| You pussy, even your lesbo flow is so dykey
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| Check the level, dump the treble that’s the phat G sound
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| The devil’s on a whole new level when we roll through your town
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| Cause it’s the O double D, C-O-U-P-L-E
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| With J.B. on this banger, courtesy of A. V
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| It’s hot shit
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| Ooooh, don’t say you is when it isn’t
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| Like jerkin' off with your left hand, our shit just feels different
|
| And +Por Que+ you wanna act like you got that pimp shit
|
| Sin-A-Matic heads know that my posse makes hits
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| I heard you thinkin' drinkin' is some shit that we say
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| But best believe I leave? |
| drippin' with Grand monyay
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| Hip hop horray
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| It’s the end for you clowns
|
| And leave your hoe to standing up
|
| You sit the fuck back down |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Open the Mic (feat. Jay Love, Louis Logic, J-Zone & J.J. Brown) , by - Celph Titled. Song from the album The Gatalog: A Collection of Chaos, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп