Celph Titled & Buckwild - There Will Be Blood lyrics

Can I do it? (Yeahh!) Can y'all do it? (Yeahh!) ALL together now! (AAAAAAAAAAHH) "Oooh, ya love it" If me and some rap f*ggot have static We can go to war, at your show you'll need flap jackets Strapped with automatics? No we use bats and hatchets Give the microphone a drug test, I spit crack at it (for crack addicts) Approach your A&R with an AR Based on, a true story, I spit H-bombs, in every eight bars When Tony put his face in that snow I was writin' them flavor flows And yeah, even my worst haters know that I'm a player fo' sho' They be like, "Yeah, I'm with ya Titled" Bring b**hes back to the pad like a menstrual cycle You walk around like you some kind of thuggy guy I know you ain't Diddy but I can make you see through Puffy eyes You know my styles boy, you know what I'm workin' with Fire arms of various calibers penetrate I'm the hate that breeds hate Nah, let me illustrate Time stands still on a day that's slow For me it ain't about the show it's about the proof Blow the air from the roof And anything movin' this is a stick up If you fiends even hiccup you layin' flat You wanna face this rage? Somebody threw some meat in the cage Wear armor You can call Obama Call your momma I breed armies, make men out of boys Tactical General Patton from BK to Manhattan You frontin' You lame, treat your whole squad the same I don't play when it comes to this I rule the mic with the iron fist Compile data then I make the list Grab the wack, move they a** to trash Then empty trash so they don't exist Since vinyl Words flow like herds of rhinos Leave your a** trampled when I'm runnin' on the sample A showdown at sundown, these verb-als I rundown Will leave your a** dumbfound, you thought you was gunned down Rhyme style mean like a dope fiend lean Cut against the green and you face the guillotine Grand Puba, there's no way you can dodge Better off tryin' your luck at Las Vegas at Mirage Been through ups and downs, never touched the ground Like girls with the big bu*ts, never f*ck with clowns Let music take over me Words flow through me Truly the best that's why n***as keep quotin' me I'm the baddest n***a livin', average n***as don't stand a chance I danced in France, put hands and feets on beats Put fans in trances Amsterdam is, a place where I sin Get that Yen in Japan kid The Swiss Mountains, got a Swiss accountant Chick with a fountain pen, keep my chips amountin' to somethin' My grind is unparalleled While y'all n***as keep on horsin' around like carousels I'm mind over As a matter of fact There's no practice needed See, I'm matched bar none When it's all said and done up The last man standin' is proof Who has the biggest bra** and bubbas for crafty McGuyver E'vryday things around me work to my advantage Create the plan at random For every livin' soul on the planet understand this As some author's say, "An heir is apparent" I'm that oil piece, priceless art There's no biddin' on it, auction block Fortune of Fort Knox Off top or written Each album takes precision Knocks out solidify win the fight over decision I got a flow so cold n***as call me chilly Don't ever press up fam, I'll smack you silly If I'm all out of Dutches, I pack the Philly On my J.O.B., I mack the millis And I'm all about stackin' my chips Gettin' dome in the back of the whips Start smackin' them hips All that slick talk will just gets you smacked in the lips Game time fourth quarter, back to the blitz You can't move me, shake me, break me, make me Be somethin' I'm not n***as wanna snake me I'm right by escape key, writin' X Big Diam still writin' the checks Holla at me