Celph Titled - Agony Fires lyrics

[Intro] “Monsieur le juge, ce cahier contient des notes rédigées… J'attire votre attention sur les changements spectaculaires de style d'écriture, de ton et de point de vue. Ce que vous avez sous les yeux, ce sont les pensées intimes de plusieurs personnalités différentes. Si vous me permettez, quelques explications… merci” [Verse 1: Vinnie Paz] I lick a shot in the sky A war don, you're gone cousin, Optimus Prime You a b**h, one of 700 Solomon's wives I was in Constantinople during Ottoman's shine My Glock is a nine My thirty-eight Wesson a beautiful b**h You rhyme like a ho, find a more suitable pitch You bout to find out why German Lugers exist Dig a hole, bury yourself, beautiful ditch It ain't a single man living could f** with the beast Gay rapper, altar boy you f**in' a priest f** a cop, dirty pig we buckin' police Dirt bag can't make money, he stuck in the streets [Verse 2: Planetary] What you think? I'm sittin' in this cage for nothing? If they release me it's curtains, that's why I live in the dungeon All black nothin' lit up, I set up walls And hang body's that I hit up, can't fit us all Warchild got machetes with old blood on the tip Paz sittin' with artillery to blow you to bits sh**, King Syze with the getaway All black UConn, shoes on everyday Gun play nowadays more frequent More real n***as mad fallin' off the deep end And your life depends on me I ice out the whole joint and put your men on freeze [Hook: Planetary] You can start a riot in here, now who's wit me? Who the f** gon' ride when this sh** get shifty? Where my n***as at? I know who ride wit me This Pharaohs sh** fo' life, they gon' die right with me [Verse 3: Celph Titled] Spur of the moment I could strike with a strategic blow I hold the heaters low and ground you up inside a pita roll Explosive botanist, obvious that I plant bombs I stand out in crowds like I got fluorescent pants on Satanic candles lit in my recording room I'm makin' hits, singing songs of d**h in Autotune Put a bear-trap on ya ankle Drop you off at Foot-Locker Mug the manager like, "What the f**s poppin'?!" Punks drop it, while I stand tall You see me, you seen the greatest rapper, modern man's call Electric meat-shaver that's a modern man's saw Precision chop limbs after I body slam y'all [Verse 4: Apathy] Hand saw, body chopper Bloody opera singer, Satan's trigger finger Rock the bells in Hell, call me a dead ringer Freddy Krueger sweater, rock a Beretta co*ker I'll dead a copper, head to Czechoslovakia 'fore they spot me On security cams My maturity shows When I take these young rappers and I murder they flows Including Weezy's and Jeezy's, if I had a genie I'd make major label rappers Ice Cube's and Eazy's Monster with the frees when I'm conquering MCs I be airin' rappers out, like I'm sponsored by Febreze If you stop to get some Z's I just haunt you in your dreams Smuggle yay from Medellin and vacation in Belize Please believe me [Hook]