[Verse 1: Dutchma**ive]
Yo there's a diss, diss here
Yo there's a diss, diss there
Here a diss, there a diss, everybody's dissing me
Yo I'm out of options
The force of impact on local voices stays constant
Build a ma**ive anger and now I'm lost in
Jealous of my high pitched vocals and rough delivery
You're sick of me
Saddened by the fact we marked history
The first amongst professionals, emerging from Junk Planet
Planned in tropic states and then we start expanding
I'm the dopest lyricist!
17 and always stressed
Cause my f**ed-up outlook on life; I stay vexed
I'm the best at what I do; I'm not a man you can defeat
Here's advice to all you cipher rivals, "yo talk is cheap"
I delete a**holes with abundance of animosity
I'm still the dopest, even though you f**ed up my sound quality
An oddity, outcast, that's straight from the normal
Now who's the piece of sh**?
Ya'll are f**ing stupid!
[Verse 2: Celph Titled]
You know it's atomic when
You can't stop the rain
Ravage bodies for segments and sediments
Ain't a damn thing changed
My persona precise conducts riveting performances
One hundred percentages
Vision of succeeding is fictitious like unicorn's with contact lenses
What?!
Most don't know what
Much of those freakin' are stisters staggering to sisters
Stops their sisters stuttering and study my rhymes
You can shake my hand, but use the other to count your blessings
We be the three horsemen of this art form, odd numbers the essence
Flashing automatic weapons is blasphemous
You'd better hold something heavy
When me and the soul kid klik combine the counter-reaction's unbelievable
Thus inconceivable
Yo G-Clef hold me back
This ain't your average gun clap rap
From New York City, to TPA, and back
Make sure you pick-up a brochure or pamphlet for info
On how I single-handed turn drama MC hamlets in to omelets;
Quite nicely, minus the spicy additive
The saddest kids at a loss for adjectives to describe these whack sh** pa**ages
{*Beat change*}
(Wait a minute, wait a minute, cut this sh** ay man, you got to get more hyped up than that)
(Yo, I ain't even feeling you Dutch)
[Verse 3: Dutchma**ive]
Ayo commence with the gibberish
Face it, ain't nobody hearing sh**
I think too much to be an imitating lyricist
My experience lacking all qualities of stability
C'mon ya'll are k**ing me
I rearrange identities and ride galactic centipedes
More enemies to diss my ego (Nah Duke I'm just confident)
Battling Demigods I exit out the Alpha Project
Flying objects emit from the arms of order logic
You are all now my hostage
There is no escape from the carbon gla** surrounding
You're trapped in your own bullsh** ways of gettin' down kid
Emotion filled ba*tard, battle scars I have none
Lookin' towards the future makes me wanna purchase mad guns
Stunned to the fact that I act like I don't care
But I'm not mad at the world, just everybody living here
(Dutch, you still whack)
[Verse 4: Celph Titled]
Yo life's a snitch, God forbid the b**h report me
I practice witchcraft and sorcery, transcend velocities immortally
Spittin' ammunition in all directions; I'm every man's fear
You could turn yourself invisible, but you still couldn't stand clear
I live in the flesh, only when I'm wearin' it
Flow active and narrative
Speak with many tongues leaving MC's speechless Samaritans
I get more applause than God at the Gospel Awards
My acceptance speech was immortalized in stone tablets, before the Dinosaurs
Beyond the limits that are humanly possible
Ripping your hair out follicle by follicle
Diabolical vandalist, f** the graffiti artist
I'm the Vampire calligraphist
I'd rather tag your name with your cardiovascular excrements
Motherf**er this is your last will and testament
Celph Titled, sincerely yours, the man who exhales toxins
Holdin' down the tropic states, we carry knives to cut our boxes
Word life
MC's act like they can flow
I know you faking Jacks cause you as hardcore as the Cosby Show
(W-w-w-w-What's that!? That, [?])
(TAKE OFF YOUR SHOES, YOU ARE ON HOLY GROUND!)