Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cellz, artist - MF DOOM. Date of issue: 22.03.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Cellz |
| DOOM from the realm of Al-Qayyum. |
| Smelly gel fume |
| Separating cell womb to Mele Mel, boom! |
| Revelations in braille, respiration, inhale |
| View nations fail, shaking of a snake tail |
| Make due, blazing swords, traze the haze, praise the Lord |
| Saving grace. |
| Lace your broad, she say she bored |
| A crazy straw, ink and stale-dried paraffin |
| Candy corn crap rappers pale by comparison |
| A bad Samaritan averagin above average men |
| Rancid rants havin' ramblin', savages scavagin' |
| For scraps, perhaps road kill, if that |
| Gift of gab and he flow ill, chrome stiff hat |
| Known for writin' lightnin' tight lines |
| Chiefin beefin' bein' off deep ends, divine bright shines even |
| Dimes quiet as minds by design, mighty fine |
| Slight rewind, tightly bind, blind lead blind |
| Need minds now, that was this is then |
| Listenin' to sizzlin' officialtons whisperin' him again |
| Metal Face spinster playin' with the dirty money |
| Sinister, don’t know what he sayin' but the words be funny |
| Major vets spaded through the vest with a bayonet |
| Save your breath, gave a F, pay your debt, they forget |
| Make 'em sweat bullets, crime pays no benefits |
| Then it gets wilder with more childish degenerates |
| Yodel at your uncle flows, my motorcycle trunk fulls |
| from 2, 1 to 1, loose crumbs to chunks in bundles |
| Hands down, better than what your mans used to get |
| Standin' around for where the translucent lucid spit |
| Missin wheel, you don’t listen, you a feel head |
| Sittin' in the kitchen, pissin', twitchin', kissin' steel lead |
| Crime pays no dental nor medical |
| Unless you catch retirement, county, state or federal |
| Ya heard like roaring waters in a seashell |
| If a tree fell, ya couldn’t tell from 3 cell |
| Be real careful, they tellin' by the earful |
| Kids doin' skid bids, acting out is terrible |
| Word is bond, fix your clothes, put a shirt on |
| Pants saggin' back when used to meant you had a skirt on |
| Squirts posin' as thuggers and hustlers |
| Al-itu closer than y’alls ball huggers and jugglers |
| MOTHAFUCKAS |