| Yeah, you goddamn right it’s Celph Titled
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| The granddaddy grenade, mother fucker
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| With my man 7L the devastator
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| This is how we do this shit
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| Yo, my most prized possession is my knife collection
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| All types of different slices selections, the nicest
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| Weapons from the Get Right Reverend
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| Wiling out on niggas with outlandish rage
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| Plus I’m known to tote the iron like a Spanish maid
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| That’s going to body you, really like straighten you out
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| Don’t think I won’t put the barrel straight in your mouth
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| How many times can I write about the same old shit
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| I guess I won’t find out until y’all stop buying it
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| But until then it’s guns, bitches, punch lines and human accords
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| There’s kids across the world to argue over computers
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| Who’s the best? |
| Celph Titled cause he writes heaters
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| Caught so many bodies he should be the MVP wide receiver
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| I seen your chick where the groupies be
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| And when she’s in my bed sounding off key like Lumidee
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| You out looking for the bitch, all nervous and shit
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| I took her to the A-Train and wrote this verse for 7L's mix
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| It’s dangerous to play the role of a gangster
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| When you dealing with a gangster who employs many gangsters
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| Suffered and lifted on my back to make a queens soldier
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| Southside will flatten you like steam rollers
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| (Verse 2: Big Scoob)
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| Unh hunh, Big Scoob baby
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| AKA Johnny mother fucking Famous
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| Brooklyn, all day, you heard, trend setters
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| I fuck hoes, dimes, bitches in they prime
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| Hood rat chickens who ain’t got one dime
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| Don’t give a fuck if you swole
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| I fill you with holes
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| Niggas will think you’re Kwame
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| From the dots in your clothes
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| With a chain in your rhyme
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| Wrist that don’t shine
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| Niggas want to be jigga but ain’t got one dime
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| Everybody hot, everybody pop Glock
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| Man you only seen a gun cause your pops a cop
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| I kick real shit, Brownsville on the hill shit
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| Big Scoob, Trend Setters, something you can feel shit
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| I Spray your block like graffiti, what
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| And wait for 5−0 to get an autographed CD
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| None of y’all niggas spit lines like these
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| I’ll have your bitch yelling please Hercules, Hercules
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| Its war, it’s like you a dead man walking
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| Trend Setters tired of you bitch niggas talking
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| (Verse 3: Terra)
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| Unnh, Terra, new shit, ha ha
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| Ay yo, there come a time
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| When everything must change
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| When y’all gotta stop selling the fuck out
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| That time is right now
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| You better ask about me, I’m the thug bitch
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| Whip out a shank and a dick in your back
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| Shit on your track, I get it down now
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| They be calling me fire, the rapper die bitch
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| The assassin for hire
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| Took everything I was taught to see what I can do
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| Fuck you hating ass bitches, you heard, you niggas too
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| The ain’t your local radio station, come on dog
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| This ain’t a broadcast live from the parking lot in the mall
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| These circles in the streets will get you the fuck hurt
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| And the last thing you want to do is spit your hottest shit first
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| How you want it dog? |
| In your ass or your mouth
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| And you ain’t got that much time because my shit is about to come out
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| And I will fuck, bite your fucking head off too
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| Out with a 4,5 and 6 like kiss, a range too
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| If you truly a queen, then I’m talking to you
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| I’m the heir to the thrown and I’m coming the fuck through
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| It’s my turn Terra |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song 7l Freestyle , by - Celph Titled. Song from the album The Gatalog, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп