| I’ll be a missing child just for free promotion
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| Advertise my album on the panel of your milk carton, what?!
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| This fucking
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| Position bucking sporadically
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| Expunging wreck like demolition
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| Get you open with knife incision
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| I was charged with possession of ten dead bodies in my trunk
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| They were alive last time I checked
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| Must’ve been when I hit that speed bump
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| You’re a true honey bun
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| I shove a beehive up your wreck
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| With heads often shoot 'em out cannons
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| Choosing my victims at random
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| Packing my punch with
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| Bust holes in all y’all souls
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| Dislocate your jaw so bad you bite chunks off your earlobes
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| Yo impress of the fly souls, stuff to make your head explode
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| in toilet bowls, get gasoline poured on their clothes
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| from the globe, I’m no trend I’m permanent
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| Put my hand through your throat, make a sock puppet poet
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| I’ve ruthless, feed bodies down to a bloodstain on my carpet
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| So put on an iron mask and hide yourself inside
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| (I'm vicious!)
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| Take a bird feeder out of your caucus
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| Speak in the mic and wipe every MC out in Rawkus
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| «At this point I’m way beyond the average MC»
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| «When he next man says, «Yo, you rhyme good for being white'» — Sev Statik
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| 'Rebuild'
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| I’ll leave you nameless like songs on the tape with no tracklist
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| Shot my video with a camcorder and edit live on Public Access
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| I’m so raw consulting my CD causes hepatitis
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| Got the mic covered with asbestos, you can’t burn it or touch it
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| Interrupt this broadcast like everything you have in half
|
| Smash your nose so hard you kissed your forehead from the impact
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| You wanted to battle behind my back now you asking for an autograph
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| So we can battle for respect
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| I’ll sign «best wishes» on your epitaph
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| Rip your arms off in combat and slap your face till you collapse
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| Knock the talent out you ask, «Homie where’s your skills at?»
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| I sign record contracts and disappear in ink
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| And watch record labels fight over Eastwick release
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| When Celph’s beats strike they damage eye sights like strobe lights
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| Take custody of your heart and give you visitation rights
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| Stab you in your back with your chin
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| I got your back, finish him!
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| Carve my name on your back with a safety pin
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| I got you back again
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| In the underground where 50 heads is capacity crowd
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| I rock shows in your backyard
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| «Hey, keep it down!»
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| When Braille comes around
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| Your heart drops to your stomach
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| So call your stomach «hip hop» and put your heart in it
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| The results of an
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| Rocking beats that make your neck hurt
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| In the studio I’m mad live but couldn’t do this song in concert
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| Acupuncture structures with toothpicks
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| It’s over I’m taking over
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| Knock you out with one punch
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| Call me the «One Hit Wonder»
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| Talk is cheap when you can’t afford a dictionary
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| You wanna be complex?
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| Go study Egypt and chemistry
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| I’m able to diss any MC on every song on my LP
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| And still catch them buying a copy
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| Attending the record release party
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| I mess with heads, give white kids dreads
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| Strictly barbershop
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| Look at me the wrong way
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| Catch A Bad One like Biz Markie
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| I put this on wax for DJ’s so I better be getting some airplay
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| Or watch me get ill with scissors, razors and hairspray
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| Biting what I say results eating disorders
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| Don’t ever try to steal my skill
|
| Until you can handle the effects of the powers
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| It doesn’t matter, fine I’ll let your rhyme just keep in mind
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| I’m the one that hit it with the best lines in the 1−9-9−9 |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gullet Gambit , by - Braille. Song from the album Lifefirst: Half The Battle, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп