You're lookin' at the rookie rapper

With a years biggest itcha rows

Yeah this n***a switch his flows

Yeah I dig and switch his h*es

Hear them n***as snitch to po's

Where a n***a pitch his blow

And how my hustle gross is near that n***a Richard Po's

I share my figures with the h*es

I'm where the digger stitch his clothes

It's ghetto F A B O L O U S

I got street legend fame

I'm the kid known to put the coat to a bredren's frame

Like he's Edgerrin James

Y'all stash guns I carry 'em on my waist

Ya part time piece

Aquarium interface

The hood rat Hugh Heff loungin' on ya in the Rolls

The project Playmates around the corner centerfolds

I'm constant hated

Listen to the nonsense stated

But n***as can't s**t on me like they constipated

I briefly conversated

These doors sittin' on ten times two

Mami what's so complicated

Ya heard

Blao Explosion game on lock

Hotness drop this it's that sick hip hop

It's like blao

I'm a coast to coast G keep the toaster closely

So duck deez motherf**ker

Blao

Said it before ready for war

With my sawed off shotgun hand on the pump pump

Blao

Slap my gat I ain't hear to talk

You wanna make it gutter I can throw you off the sidewalk

It's like Karl Pac and Biggie is the greatest to rhyme

Problem is this list only exists in my mind

So instead

I listen to your style and keep laughin'

You beatin' me rappin' that's like gym havin' clappin'

That'll never happen I'm sicker of course

Then droppin' a dime

Like Shawn Kemp's child support

Look at all you kids underground and straight shook

You ain't gettin' signed like nerdy kids yearbooks

I'm gettin' second looks but the industry is s**tty

Cause I'd rather die than ever sound like Chingy

Right Thurr

Come on dawg

You ain't gettin' robbed

Cause it's uneven like Dru Hill on a seesaw

Yo you don't want any bad blood in between us

Like we're standing right next to Magic Johnson's intravenous

It's Hot Karl and Celph so if you wanted a hit

You can peep the famous guys and fast forward our s**t

Blao Explosion game on lock

Hotness drop this it's that sick hip hop

It's like blao

I'm a coast to coast G keep the toaster closely

So duck deez motherf**ker

Blao

Said it before ready for war

With my sawed off shotgun hand on the pump pump

Blao

Slam my gat I ain't hear to talk

You wanna make it gutter I can throw you off the sidewalk

They say cause I don't believe in Christ that I'm misled

Been shot at twice but never hit I just miss lead

Get it right the name's Celph Titled

Straight out of motherf**kin' Tampa

Leavin' enough gun smoke to give you lung cancer

Plans for your album

It's best if you lose those

Shoot up your M P C and you gonna find a few loop holes

We sellin' bullet wounds havin' a wholesale

Leavin' complex patterns all in your head so you know braille

And so frail rappers y'all ain't Dance With Wolves

Just swimmin' with sharks when the hammer get's pulled

Any witnesses Who's tellin' Nobody

The perfect crime no autopsy and no body

Without a neck you can't rock that chain

No way for air to get to your brain

Another murder for this Cuban to claim

An inconsiderate asshole pissin' on you

What else you expect That's what a d**khead do

Blao Explosion game on lock

Hotness drop this it's that sick hip hop

It's like blao

I'm a coast to coast G keep the toaster closely

So duck deez motherf**ker

Blao

Said it before ready for war

With my sawed off shotgun hand on the pump pump

Blao

Slam my gat I ain't hear to talk

You wanna make it gutter I can throw you off the sidewalk

Yo Doc pee on your floor

I'ma be on the w***e

Till she knocked out then I take a G out her drawer

I'm a thief on the streets you might be in the morgue

Doin' a chicken of course I take a key out a Porsche ah

Box 'em in claustrophobic

I'm a pro y'all know this

When sensing y'all controllers

Grown men is talkin'

This the fast lane move over to the margin

It's over when I walk in

Doctor on my license plate

The front of my truck resembles Mike Tyson face

When I pull up to the club the buildin' shake

H*es start runnin' out

N***as start runnin' mouth

I'ma bolt the door and security the area

Got We molt floors to secure the Dillinger

Yo Doc You want war I'll be sure to bury ya

The more the merrier but your

Blao