Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Real Vilains (feat.Guttamouf,Lord Digga,Majik Most , by - Celph Titled. Release date: 27.06.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Real Vilains (feat.Guttamouf,Lord Digga,Majik Most |
| Yo, I got you askin' who the fuck would want beef with a strong fleet? |
| Hungry to palm heat? |
| Cause this year we gon' eat |
| And ain’t no motherfucker stoppin' the kingdom |
| Shut the church down |
| Every bell broke cause we ringed 'em |
| Singin' hymns in hell, at the top of my lungs |
| Fuck a Rock Band, I can play the drums with my guns |
| Ain’t it |
| A bitch when the streets is the wildest sport |
| Sell crack and come up short on child support |
| Take heed, lay low and strap on a vest |
| Run a credit check, I could kill a rapper for less |
| And you saw my rap quote that the Source won’t |
| It’s so ill that a whore’s throat spittin' shit in Morse Code |
| Your label got doe? |
| You can get a song from me |
| Fill up the limo with cash, I’m talkin' long money |
| After I spit, the mic get’s replaced |
| They don’t know whether to call it a sound booth or a fire place |
| And I’m a funny fuck that’ll put twenty slugs |
| Up inside your honey love so she can get her tummy tucked |
| Celph Titled |
| The villain of rap |
| We use a twelve gauge they can’t trace a shotgun blast |
| Niggas is illin' |
| We the real villains |
| What more can you say, we’re shots peelin' |
| That’s what you get (BOOM) |
| You got it? |
| Good |
| And I hope you understood |
| What the fuck? |
| You thought I wasn’t raw? |
| When Gutta talk, vibrations crack the asphalt |
| Pull out the gat and watch the crowd disperse |
| The worst |
| I’m plantin' C-4 on your hearse |
| Comin' suicide and kill you again in Hades |
| Make a pact with satan, come back and kill ALL your babies |
| You really wanna fuck with that? |
| Put this chainsaw on you |
| Finish splittin' that ass crack |
| Nigga |
| I think you better leave it alone |
| You better listen to Jahiem in case you don’t make it home |
| (Motherfucker) |
| I hope you made love to your wife |
| I’ll get shit on my dick, then blood on my knife |
| Escape conviction, fuck goin' to prison |
| Break in your house and fill your wife’s mouth with jizzm |
| I had an unholy baptism |
| Now I need a young and an old priest to perform the Exorcism |
| I feed off these negative things |
| I take fake thug MCs and make them niggas sing |
| So I’ll play Nas and you play Hova |
| I hope you +Got Yourself A Gun+ before you try to +Takeover+ |
| Niggas is illin' |
| We the real villains |
| What more can you say, we’re shots peelin' |
| That’s what you get (BOOM) |
| You got it? |
| Good |
| And I hope you understood |
| This ain’t my universe, see I ain’t from here |
| I’m just makin' a space for all my apes to come here |
| We’re the most feared, that sample that can’t get cleared |
| Stay droppin' science, yours is weird |
| Seize your vessel like Blackbird |
| I’m takin' your ship |
| I’m the coast God |
| I spotted you from the coast guard |
| The get away car |
| Not playin' with a full deck of cards |
| Your freestyle don’t work, you’re scared |
| We inhibit you dicks, from actin' hard |
| Never place bets on the odds |
| Bust nuts and wads |
| The Intrepid, niggas can’t Dodge |
| The lyrical pig, I spit lard |
| I’m like a Blood and a Crip |
| Impossible to fuck with |
| Stick you for your budget |
| Men-aged with your mom and chick, they loved it |
| They told me my Bone was Thuggish |
| If you ain’t garbage you rubbish |
| I hit the road with heat, stash the luggage |
| Your bullshit lyrics, I ain’t tryin' to love it |
| You’re on some fake thug shit, y’all ain’t rugged |
| I’m |
| Killin' your style, no remains recovered |
| Niggas is illin' |
| We the real villains |
| What more can you say, we’re shots peelin' |
| That’s what you get (BOOM) |
| You got it? |
| Good |
| And I hope you understood |
| You wanna Get Large? |
| Get charred with your face scared |
| Lookin' like a cartoon can of discharge |
| You’ll be bon voyage, better pray to your god |
| When I travel over your body in a Pope Mobile |
| Majik makes you wanna tote that steel |
| You’re so fuckin' scared I’m like, «What's the deal?!» |
| I’ll shoot your hat off, like saloons in the west |
| Bitch, I’m the captain, harpoon in your chest |
| You fishin' for beef? |
| Get your tackle box |
| Sell more records in Europe, than David Hasselhoff |
| Roastin' your Britney Spears tassels off |
| I’ll knock a Jewish man’s noggin' off and yell «Mazel Tov!» |
| Your skin will peel off while I’m eatin' rice pilaf |
| Pissin' me off? |
| Oh my God you’re soft! |
| And I’m flippin' more than Tipper Gore when I’m gettin' raw |
| Rip my shirt off, Skeleton swellin' your whore |
| Niggas is illin' |
| We the real villains |
| What more can you say, we’re shots peelin' |
| That’s what you get (BOOM) |
| You got it? |
| Good |
| And I hope you understood |