Lyrics Just a Feelin' - Celph Titled

Just a Feelin'

I wanna make a mill so I can change and act strange
Get an Andre 3000 wig with some bangs
I’ll hang and bang your frame like the Predator do
Turn in your album kid, I’m the editor dude
I’m takin' out you, your producer and your crew
(Ayo, that’s why they hate you)
I’mma spit in your food
Turn in your eggs and steak
Just throw it off your plate
You’re shook cause your mom called and pre-booked a date
Now when thugs hear this beat, they wanna do the Hammer dance
I keep so many guns on me
I gotta rock Hammer pants
God Damn I’m the man
(Who's that?)
I’ve been a star since Pat Benatar been a star
I seen you talkin' to some men at the bar
But I ain’t know who they was
Here’s a round on us
We gonna throw 'em some slugs
Launch 'em a scud
And put the Glock to the back of your head
My burner stay scaldin' hot
Leave you with a balding spot
«Y'all shut up and listen»
«Just a feeling»
«Ain't nothin', ain’t frontin'»
«Just a feeling»
«Bitch, yeah, we murder the rest»
«Just a feeling»
«Y'all in trouble now»
«Y'all shut up and listen»
«Just a feeling»
«Ain't nothin', ain’t frontin'»
«Just a feeling»
«Bitch, yeah, we murder the rest»
«Just a feeling»
«That bullshits not me, that bullshit is you» — KRS-One
I’m a dangerous man like highly flammable flannels
(And what?) And lit Roman candles (Oh)
Majik man handles
My groping ass, flat breast sick sex scandal
In my private jet you can bet I’m not sober
Reverend Run’s on a runway, I"ll run his ass over
I’ll leave your melon with a massive comb over
Diagnose with melanoma and gang green and a coma
And I’ll eat your spleen with kidney beans and it’s over
Don’t stick your head out
It’s huntin' season for duck niggas
Elmer Fudd with the pump loaded
You better duck niggas
No Rogaine just propane to make your wig flammable
Keep my weapon concealed inside’a stuffed animals
Stash rifles in giraffe necks
Smack you with a hockey stick
Now that’s a bad check
Why give a bitch some chedda
When I can come home and jack off
To some old school rap videos by Salt-N-Pepa
Catch you broke kids on radar
I see you on the beacon
Come to your house and just punch your beak in
Me and Vicious Stevens dump your body in the deep end
(Stupid motherfucker)
You got caught tryin' to peak in
When your little sister masturbated to me speakin'
I freak the industry
Stay on my job
Motherfuck a gun butt
I’ll give you a gun job
Now you need Sponge Bob to soak up blood clots
Yeah
Me and Majik the tag team of rap
Toe taggin' your team it’s a wrap
Your grandma is gettin' clapped
(You let the guns rumble?)
Nigga I’m Spice-1's stunt double
Sprayin' flames at your grill until your face bubbles
Demonic aroma therapy
Burnin' flesh and kerosene
Groundin' your brains inside of canned hams with yams and beans
And it seems your studio is my bathroom stall
Come through rockin' a pea coat and piss on y’all