The Final Word - L-Fudge, Celph Titled

Yeah, yeah

Unh, unh

L Fudge, Celph Titled

(1: L Fudge)

You lacks the minerals and vitamins

Respect due to that

The average hip hop consumer is now like, who that?

Songs now a days ain’t staying stuck in your brain

They got to the point that all songs that suck sound the same

Speaking on behalf of a third of us in the game

Whenever dope comes up they ain’t announcing our names

Not running up in clubs screaming

When my songs pumping they celeb status waning like Keenan

They big headed and gassed up, I’m staying on the cement

Don’t want to hear that talk around me, I’m not playing

But my villains, y’all couldn’t help know this bitch

Is rated over me then, y’all automatically

Get more frequent to my semen

Pay attention to how closely to how stupid y’all look

Like a producer dropping dime on a new Cubans Shit back to the song,

continuing to split lyrics in half

To the point in the bathroom you ask if its on

You’ll be like, 'yeah it is' don’t his rap be the bomb

Listen what’s with dun and our pens sing a long

Bring it on, whatever, that’s how this shit supposed to be

I ain’t new nice, I’ve been since Hawaiian Sophie, please

(2: Celph Titled)

You can’t mislead a champion

Don Dada, Celph Pachino

Nice with the gun clap, get your front smacked

You not militant, so how can your rank hang

With a man that is quick enough to dodge

A bullet a point blank range

The 9 double M snub, real handle this

I don’t puff weed, but I could still smoke Canibus

Upper echelon, at the Grammys, get my trophy on

I’m kinda childish, I’ll choke you with a Pokemon

In fact, I like sex and violence so much

I have fantasies of busting off rounds when I fuck

Some say I’m a sick nigga, let the gun click nigga

Cuban spic nigga, why you all up on my dick, nigga?

I said it before, and I’m a say it again

I’d rather write with a knife and stab your ass with a pen

You couldn’t release dope shit even if you at a kilo

Bitchs know my stee-lo and scream «Aye que Rico»

Celph Titled is lethal without enhancements

I’m like a tape deck that can’t rewind, always advancing

I’ll smack Swiss Beats over the head with his own Casio

And bring real hip hop back to my stage show

I don’t know sign language so fuck a contract

That’s what I speak, understand that

Wanna know what a real pussy feels like?

Why don’t you stand in the corner and hug yourself real tight

Mother fucker

(Celph Titled) Yo, this is for my niggas smoking chronic in blunts

(L-Fudge) For my my British niggas smoking spliffs along with silk, hunh?

(Celph Titled) For my European niggas smoking ounces of skunk

(L-Fudge) To my Dominican’s making thousands off of just one

(Celph Titled) We can make songs for you, shit, why the fuck not

(L-Fudge) I take the first hit, hide it from cops, cops see, don’t they paid to

be dope, I’m addicted to bitches that give me brains to elope, but I’m tied up

like Rudolph on a sleigh to a rope and cut up short like a movie to a dope

(Celph Titled) I’m an ungrateful asshole who’s always quick to wet cops,

have my t-shirts made in a third world sweat shop

(L-Fudge) You should have some sympathy

(Celph Titled) Well how could I have that? When I was 12, I was homeless and

living with the rats

(L-Fudge) It’s L-Fudge and Celph Titled we be NY’s best, coming four times

magnum, straight to your chest, what

greets, Mr. Whizzler

Heavy Gunz

keep it really real