| «Two of a kind… Silence and I
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| We’ll find a way to work it out»
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| (Intro: Vinnie Paz)
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| Yeah… Pazmanian Devil
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| Louis Dogs… hahahahahaha
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| AOTP, Celph Titled
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| King Syze, baby
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| Walk with me (hahahahahaha)
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| Yeah…
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| (Verse 1: Vinnie Paz)
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| Yo, I mastered the flow
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| I know death more than Lazarus know
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| And me defeated is infrequent like Nazareth snow
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| Hold your urn into the air so the ashes can blow
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| Hold my burner in the air so the pacifists know
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| That I ain’t scared to start a revolution
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| Another fixed election, another injustice, I’ma execute 'em
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| Land of the free, home of the bravest
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| Who you think the victim, who you think the fuckin' slave is?
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| People on the grind, workin' for minimum wages
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| Workin' 9 to 9 and seein' a minimum paper
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| Not to mention the inadequecies of welfare
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| And the lack of a proper universal health care
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| They don’t know about the common man
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| They care about distractin' you and hope that Israel will bomb Iran
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| I got a bombin' hand, and it’s for George Walker
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| Meet your maker, motherfucker, meet your Lord Father
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| «It's gangsta how we rock, while you watch
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| Attracted to our style, this is how we get down
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| With big jewelry and big guns
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| We get busy, it get grizzly» — Mobb Deep
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| (Verse 2: King Syze)
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| Yeah, uh…
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| Yo this is concrete rap, Q-Dimension pavin' the way
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| It’s a sacred day, waitin' for my patience to pay
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| I’m a horse that’s grazing the hay, that’s sayin' olé
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| I’m the evil that’s born when someone good passes away
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| I’m most good at foul things, the love and hate an unwanted child brings
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| Right, left, life, death, distress that a trial brings
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| The best of the wild kings, that’s us
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| This is smoked out rap, get high, angel dust
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| Roll with niggas that be payin' them dues
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| Playas that don’t give a fuck if they lose
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| Live they whole life drainin' booze
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| Doc already told me, «Is it rap or smoke?»
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| Is it Bars of Death for life, or a hole in my throat?
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| Hard-headed, livin' my life regrettin' shit
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| This that next shit, Syzemology: the new testament
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| Do this for my niggas Kong and the fam'
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| Yo I do this for them haters sayin' my songs don’t bang
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| (Verse 3: Celph Titled)
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| If this industry’s a movie, I’m the starrin' actor
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| You’re an assistant for the intern of the back up gaffer
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| But I’m only a rapper, standin' on two feet, backstage with four whores
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| On all fours, and that’s on all tours
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| How long can I spit a punchline and an ill statement
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| And keep your attention span on my records for entertainment?
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| No explainin' it, you do the math, I did the math teacher
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| Ms. Anita spread wide, under the gymnasium bleachers
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| Fucka, don’t matter which herb speak
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| 'Cause we got pistols with barrels longer than Big Bird’s beak
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| Plus the creamy white powder, yeah we sellin' to Milk D
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| My audio too raw for children, it’s filthy
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| I never leave the crib without a pack of Now and Laters
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| I pack now, and *BLAAT* later
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| And ain’t no playa you can find rollin' down the strip with hundred rounds and
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| clips
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| Packin' MACs in the back of the Ac' on some Big Pun shit
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| When you hear the «click» your clique run quick, dick
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| We transportin' handguns in minivans; |
| that’s the «pistol whip»
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| Celph Titled, the gourmet chef, ripple effect
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| An inconspicuous spic with kitchen mittens when I’m splittin' ya neck |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Silence & I , by - Celph Titled. Song from the album The Gatalog, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп