Celph Titled - Primo's Four Course Meal lyrics

(Intro) Celph Titled, the motherf**in' landmine lieutenant Back up in this biznatch fo sho though Sammy the Sleazebag, what's good pimp-tation I'm 'bout to show you what happen to MC's that can rhyme I'm right here, we ain't go no-motherf**in'-where We gonna do it like this, check it, yeah, yo (Verse 1) Stand back you heard sir, murders occur My verbs are disturbed, my curse words are hurtin' your herbs Alertin' the service, bringin' marines with kerosene flasks Guns and masks, jumpin' through gla** with Sig 229's and MP5's I rapid fire, bust and spray men When I was a baby, my pacifier was a grenade pin And yes I'm from Tampa, no I'm not a buccaneer But I'll be buckin' near your main arteries you f**in' queer The sun is here, cover your eyes All my attributes is dangerous, my moustache is murderous My hipbone'll send your clique home with they ribs blown back and they wigs sewn to they six pack Cartilage in a gift wrap My cartridges click clack And leave you and your b**h clapped Now your b**h a** need a neck brace with a chin strap We swing machetes at crews with little ice picks And n***as 'round my way call me the Cuban Missile Crisis (Verse 2) My rap's not for emo kids My flame thrower leave you bald head like chemo kids I ain't a gangsta and a gentleman, I'm one of the two Don't open doors for b**hes, so which one would you choose? Playboy, make you steak sauce, A-1 you gay soft Not Travolta but which of my hos to take your face off We got the cake off My money stacks make the rubber bands snap My number runners gettin' bundles with no goverment tax Ain't no 20/80 split, better give me half Or you could get your jaw split Courtesy of Vinnie Paz A-O-T-P or D-E-M-I-G-O-D-Z Either or with C4 galore heaters pour Got the fever for some thick skeezers and a need for who*es She got a apple bum so what the f** we need bonita for Rappers try to pull my cards I gave 'em a shuffle Guttamouf took they bodies so I gave 'em a shovel (Verse 3) Runnin' ten laps in a second when I'm rappin' on records Came in the game in '98 and I'm already a legend Back in the day me and Dutchma**ive scheming just to get in Now we slingin' wax from 813 to the Kremlin Hook line and sinker, my hooks and lines'll sink you leagues under the sea Up my sleeves up under the fleece No tricks, just a loaded piece Chrome heat, put you in a coma sleep With a combover to cope with holes in your cheek And I don't care if you worship I'll put a bullet in your temple Leave you bent and crippled Wife and kids get sentimental Your best soldiers incomparable to my B-team f** Nas, Mission Impossible be my "Thief's Theme" Each beam I aim multiplied by 8 You gettin' f**ed on your album and gettin' raped on mixtapes Sidekick with the flip face and targetin' system Heat vision like the predator, I'm slaugterin' victims (Verse 4) The harder I hit em, migga the better they know Call up the reverend and we bringin' holy sh** to your show These holy clips leave you wholly split And every ho I hit get baptized in holy water comin' out the hole in my dick I stay holdin' my dick You thought I wasn't one of them Spittin' phlegm on bibles in God's crib right in front of him I'm iceberg but not Slim More like that type of sh** that sunk the Titanic, that irreversible damage There's no recovery possible No nurses, no hospitals, no stuffed bears and get well cards Just Celph spittin' hell's bars You grew up on a farm with the Amish gettin' they goats from I'm from the dirty South but I'm clean, so call me soap scum I'll sell the same sh** twice, double dip it and reup I ain't married to this rap game, we ain't signin' a prenup You up late watchin' raunchy cable And I'ma creep behind your couch and crack your motherf**in' skull on the coffee table (Outro) And that's that, you crack rats 64 bars like it ain't nothin' Primo, what up We bring that real sh** back That raw sh**, you heard the word Better say cheese motherf**ers Before I squeeze motherf**ers (x2) Motherf**er