Extra Thug Sauce (J-Zone Remix - Instrumental)

歌詞

Intro (Verse 1: Guttamouf) Yeah, haha, we a'int nothing buta psychotic mother fuckers in here I'm a equal opportunity cap buster White, black, Spanish, it don't matter Sixteen make you cough up your gall bladder Even if you a bitch, it means no different It doesn't matter if you wear bullet resistant I smack mother fuckers and leave barrel imprints I represent the mentally unstable Who usually end up dead or in jail While you get your coffin, I get lunch with Lucifer Had breakfast with the grim reaper Treat your body to a led diet If you don't shut the fuck up and be quiet I'm God's gift to your mother fucking photo Spit on your photo, shit on your promo With me running around, get a bullet proof do-rag Portable IV and a mother fucking shit bag (Chorus: Celph Titled) Pull out the heat, it's about to get dirty No more rap shit, just heavy artillery We the type of niggas that's quick to blow your mug off Serving mother fuckers beat downs with extra thug sauce Pull out the heat, it's about to get dirty No more rap shit, just heavy artillery We the type of niggas that's quick to blow your mug off Serving mother fuckers beat downs with extra thug sauce (Verse 2: Majik Most) Ay yo, I'm coming to your city and I'll probably be Rolling with a posse that will eat a homeless woman's pussy While playing Pavarotti they'll be fishing your body Out of Lake Erie in Michigan With a Michelin tire wrapped around your midsection I'm stepping on your corpse with a quart of your blood All over my corduroys While I bring the noise and, strict nine and poisons Yeah, the type of shit I spit will leave you hollow in side So mother fuck rap cats who can't get live I'm kicking hardcore lyrics till the age of 85 Until I retire, I'm only getting nicer I'll slam your fucking face down on a deli slicer You're crazy shook, rocking a Kevlar vest A bullet took your head off and left a little piece of your neck I need respect, I'm taking shit higher Make you firearm backfire and light your arm on fire You stupid bitch (Chorus: Celph Titled) Pull out the heat, it's about to get dirty No more rap shit, just heavy artillery We the type of niggas that's quick to blow your mug off Serving mother fuckers beat downs with extra thug sauce Pull out the heat, it's about to get dirty No more rap shit, just heavy artillery We the type of niggas that's quick to blow your mug off Serving mother fuckers beat downs with extra thug sauce (Verse 3: Celph Titled) Watch how I run through your clique And straight kill every homeboy Y'all niggas softer than the Pillsbury doughboy Fucking faggot, you eat dick nuggets and love it Watching a Richard Simmons tape And jack off after you dub it Celph Titled is known to leave heads severally bleeding And keep crack heads on my block fiending If your rhymes are poisonous, I'll make you eat your words My gun talk money, imagine all the heat you could earn Record a joint with me featuring you getting beat the fuck up In a sound booth with a busted mics in front of your fucking wife Rocking prosthetic limbs, your crew copped the boot leg Call the police, you all shook daddy, nigga we two feds Ain't another spic realer than me I give a fuck about hip hop, I'm just in it for cheese And if this music don't work, I'll just find another hustle You probably hate me for saying that shit so I say fuck you I kick rhymes on mad records just cause I can You wish to spit bars on vinyl, but you'll never have fans By the time you get a chance to have your first single out My discography is countless with six figure amounts The God Celph Titled, contested by no one Niggas want to bring it, you can catch me at a show, dun Fuck that, son who, gun you, Look what I done to, young crews that tried to come through Niggas owe me loot, they turn up like rafts and canoes I'm laughing at dude for thinking he as raw as my crew From the NY boroughs and alleys to Hillsborough County My name ring bells like free phone sex rallies The Rubix Cuban, unsolvable Shoot out the voice box of emcees and leave them inaudible An entrepreneur, your crew rocking my line of body bags In the Chrome Depot, we got shopping bags full of gats (Chorus: Celph Titled) Pull out the heat, it's about to get dirty No more rap shit, just heavy artillery We the type of niggas that's quick to blow your mug off Serving mother fuckers beat downs with extra thug sauce Pull out the heat, it's about to get dirty No more rap shit, just heavy artillery We the type of niggas that's quick to blow your mug off Serving mother fuckers beat downs with extra thug sauce