Celph Titled & Buckwild - Eraserheads lyrics

The sound of my voice will make stab wounds Father of the Universe leaving planets with half moons I have a**umed that those who choose to make rap music have no talent at music So me and Vinnie came to grab your head and put a gat to it I bring the.45 Glock and the.38 AR-15 send their body to the pearly gates Me and Celph ain't making happy music, this is truly hate Toby Hooper in this motherf*cker cousin, saw his face And when we're holding the Tec we'll put a hole in your neck Equipping you with a permanent T-Pain vocal effect I ain't a flossy dude sipping 'Mo But if I was I'd pop that cork off in your b**h's a**hole (Let 'em know) That's how that ho get treated, she get the smut treatment Toss her out the whip, leave her on the rough cement Celph and Vinnie will deliver an abrupt beating And the Walther 9M will leave your guts leaking Your video had the best special effects I seen Had you in the projects using computer blue screens (Know what I mean?) You phony motherf*ckers never held a ratchet ever You was in the f*ggot bar with Kanye strapped in leather I never thought I'd get a b**h pregnant ever Until my main squeeze gave birth to a baby Beretta The more gravy the better, don't holler just yell It's like the night before Christmas, I can't wait to see Hell I can't wait to see Hell either I'm a run up on the first motherf*cker that I see with a rusty cleaver I ain't a s**er neither and no one f*ck with Vinnie Fat gut, wife-beater, pasta, I'm a f*cking guinea I'll smash a mirror, I'll walk under a ladder I'll let a black cat cross my path, it don't matter Cause I ain't superstitious and I don't fear nothing You're talking all that tough sh** But you's a queer fronting And y'all are snitch but let me tell you something, you ain't hear nothing I like to refer to my trigger as the fear bu*ton I don't fear nothing either, I just co*k the pistol I like the way the bullet burst and what it do to tissue Yo we blazing son like g**ners with laser guns My rap verses are curses and scriptures spit with a razor tongue Nitwit I play ancient drums to conjure up demon spirits that appear in smoke out of a pagan's lungs I'm everything: hardcore, complex, original Yeah that one test, the disciple of d**h C-Titled is Christ-like, salmon at Red Lobster And C-Titled's the best at blamming hammers at imposters Get your a** whooped with automatic hazard-causers You can't make tables turn, you got bad revolvers Faulty guns that go When you pull the trigger Mine's go , it's sick when I pull the trigger It don't matter how we get down, runs around I'm letting Tons of dimes I got a wave with wild sh** cousin, tons of crimes Tons of forty-fives, AKs, tons of knives