Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song All Night, artist - Celph Titled. Album song The Gatalog, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 15.10.2002
Record label: Demigodz Enterprises
Song language: English
All Night |
I’ll break ya brain cells off at the stem your status is stupider |
Ap' is a nuclear blast, heart blacker than Lucifer |
I could sit and write a list of all the shit I would do to ya |
Head so big, I rest my fitted cap on Jupiter |
You ain’t built like this, you a soft carbon copy |
A care bear compared to a auto-box rotty |
For raps like crack I supply to the blacks |
Drop pipes, cop mics, say good-bye to your rocks |
I’m a motherfuckin star, the status of John Lennon |
Y’all are ordinary people, singin' to John Legend |
Write a track dissin' Ap'? |
Better X that out |
I don’t play that, like rap in a redneck’s house |
I could have ya brain cells spinnin quicker than Sprewell’s |
Ya female e-mailing me all ya details |
I don’t dig up dirt, I shake the Earth |
And I never say names, I wouldn’t waste a verse |
Off of the top I’m hot, and when they dare me to write |
Prepare to carry a mic to a burial site |
I’m a pioneer fuckin' up stereotypes |
I snatch chains as a kid, made you carry ya bikes |
I got an addiction to spitting shit is heroin-like |
Story teller speak of hell and the American plight |
Money blower, funny though it seems embarrassin' right? |
Rock shows, blow the do' on a pair of Air Nike’s |
All Night! |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, Yo |
You know the rules, I cruise with a tough band |
You in the fuckin closet with brooms and a dustpan |
I clean sweep ya fleet, body softer than gelatin |
Now you on the mic, yeah right my life in ya skeleton dummy |
I’m in the place, you can tell when it’s bloody |
I freakin', pay for ya face grade and mail you the money |
I’m ready I’m willin' to watch, spy on seven that flinch |
Let’s see if I don’t kill 'em in five seconds or less |
I keep comin' back like rashes on an infant |
You don’t wanna chance to clash with the magnificent |
Seven of us, it’s heaven but never enough |
So I tighten the vice grip, so his head’ll get crushed |
Look, I’m out of sight now, deep in this music |
Leavin' 'em upside-down, fiendin for new shit |
Ribkat it’s the roll power creep in the booth quick |
Blow a hole in ya back, just to eat off a soup dish |
You bitch |
Yo! |
The Demigod stands for killa’s |
More specifically we Deadly Entertainers Maniac Ignorant GODzilla’s |
And we, never took the route them other crooks took |
Cuz we kept recipes for human flesh in my mother’s cookbook |
Get souffled in more ways then ten |
Celph Titled flow is chokin' the wind, my favorite pastime’s soakin' in sin |
The most accurate sharpshooter with no scope |
Shoot with my left and watch you all die from secondhand smoke |
I’m reppin' my fam SO, You better act cool |
My soul will make a Ouija Board jump up and slap you dummy |
You not thinkin' smart |
I bust so many blamma’s and blicka’s that I should start a rock band called |
«Blink & Spark» |
Sinkin' sharks with no harpoons, my arsenal |
Is sawblade carbon tools slidin' ya coffin through |
Apathy’s insane and I’m the same as my brother |
I’m like a circus show sniper, I aim for the juggler |
Catch a case and before the judge can slam down the gavel |
The whole room duck and hide from grenade shrapnel |
These rap verses I be breezin' through |
Cuz I’m like a celebate, under oath, Un-Fuckin-Believable |
(behind turntable scratchin) x2 |
Demigods, Fort Minor |
«Ya Ya heard of us» |
Styles of Beyond |
«Ya Ya heard of us, the murderous» |