Celph Titled & Buckwild - Hardcore Data lyrics

How many songs son, how many songs? Yo son, it's like... 15. Hehehe "I dare a little punk to try to diss me You wanna know why? Because... " "The microphone mutilater with the hardcore data" "Because I spit on spectators" "The microphone mutilater with the hardcore data" "To smash motherf*ckers to potatoes" The microphone mutilater, I bruise your crew and neighbors Do you dudes a favor, show you how to use a razor (Are you a buddah blazer?) Yes I get zooted major And all you stupid haters, hit you with computer lasers I got the smoothest flavor Makin' moves, movin' makers Off the roof, who's to save ya? (who's ya savior?) Celph Titled the Rubix Ranger (player) Stupid paper when I'm doin' capers And what's inside this bazooka case will shoot a crater (ahhh) In your screwface and doofus gaffers My ruthless anger got animal-in-the-zoo behavior Now who's the spayer? (hey) Lose your body in a lake or tombs or chambers Where you'll consume fumes and vapors (haha) We mash f*cks like Super Potatoes It's true we'll do fools in, bury them with the rutabagas Sooner or later Fine tuned parachuting invaders will tear through your Winnebago Wearin' suits and aimin' aero fusion phasers (blam) They talkin' mules and acres I'm filmin' movies in Bermuda on a cruise to Jamaica (man) I'm a front tooth eraser You'se a booty shaker (uh huh) And you'll be found in a pool with barracudas and gators "The microphone mutilater with the hardcore data" "Because I spit on spectators" "The microphone mutilater with the hardcore data" "To smash motherf*ckers to potatoes" I'm too real I'll still will k** No frills no gold grills hold still hooker/hoe "chill" I know you smoke krills You shouldn't till I throw you out mobile (In Mobile Alabama) In a pile of ants and pajamas Surrounded by a thousand salamanders (what?) I'm a bust a round of cannons off camouflaged as a satanic Santa Claus Ain't another man that's raw, you should turn your cameras on Cause I'm bringin' the blama sauce The blicker oil The trigger boilin' hot from firing shots, I'll spit it for you I'll promise you that, ask mama who's back The motherf*ckin' Montezuma of rap, hollerin' "Blaaaamp! " And that's the way it goes down you fraudulent foe clown I'm a put your skull in the dryer and watch it go round "Oh my God! " I'm salutin' one for y'all, no more shootin' guns at all I'm boostin' the sun from God "The microphone mutilater with the hardcore data" "Because I spit on spectators" "The microphone mutilater with the hardcore data" "To smash motherf*ckers to potatoes" So, so, so when I walk in a club with black jeans and a white tee You're on a walkie talkie callin' security "Hurry please... it's Celph and he came strapped" Bringin' so much pain that, you can't get enough Novocaine packs So insane in fact I was held captive By unattractive cave women overdosed on Pro-Active (Yo This That sh**!) From the dynamite stick expert With bottle rockets I flip with hotter objects of s** And they flex in my bedroom Legs spread, thick red head b**h, boom With no freckles, she was actually Have black/Icelandic I might land this Spanish/Italian/French Or whatever the f*ck airport they got (f*ck it) At my mansion the size of a Marriott Yes my rhymes are very hot So where a vest cause when my CDs are pressed They fly like Japanese ninja stars and they'll injure y'all "The microphone mutilater with the hardcore data" "Because I spit on spectators" "The microphone mutilater with the hardcore data" "To smash motherf*ckers to potatoes" "I dare a little punk to try to diss me" I told y'all motherf*ckers. That's hardcore b**h n***as You're not hardcore motherf*ckers. We buckwildin'. Yo Buck You know you hardcore on this one. Hardcore tracks Bring that sh** back, f*ck that, yo