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[Talking Intro: Ant "Flave" Black] Ayo Celph, it's a lot of wack shit goin' on, man Lot of muthafuckas drippin' with wack juice and all that Bitch ass muthafuckin' garbage music on the internet Niggas wearin' tight jeans and mohawks? Like my boy Hov said I don't wear skinny jeans cause my knots don't fit! Yo Celph, let these niggas know [Verse 1:] Muthafucka I came to set it off (What you mad for?) These amateurs destroyed the whole rap platform (Word?) Think I'm wrong? Check the facts You'd be hard pressed to find a fan that's just a fan that don't rap Everybody got a song, everybody got a mixtape Braggin' bout the verses that they purchased off of MySpace They ain't buyin' records, they workin' on their records And postin' bulletins to make sure you heard their records I get fan mail, you write spam mail All about your CD that for some reason just can't sell I wonder why is that? Is your flow not hard? Lyrics ain't on point? Production not up to par? Or, uhhh, you don't spit hot enough bars Or cause you're little Timmy and you're just fuckin' soft Your voice sound lame as hell (true) You can't command the track plus you use the mic that came with your Dell (dude) SongtexteMade a internet music page, posted some songs up Begged people to check 'em, but then they say they all suck! It ain't my fault that you're wack It's my fault for not makin' this track sooner, I'm the Demigodz gat shooter The AOTP crack mover, with impactful maneuvers Send jabs at losers like I'm Zab Judah (He ain't talkin' bout me at all!) Bitch, ya drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off (yup) [Shouting Chorus: x3] Ya drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off! [Chorus Scratch:] "You drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off" [Verse 2:] I bring it straight to ya, I won't kick no weirdo literature Over trash beats, with a stupid-ass time signature Think you so fresh, movin' rap forward But that's when I'm pressin' fast forward If the future of hip hop is some faggots with mohawks Tight clothes and women's scarfs, then I'm gone Back to that gutter, back to that basement Back to real live microphone skills and not gay shit I really didn't understand it when I heard these joints It's like on purpose they try to rap with a nerdy voice (Is you serious?) My mindstate's like a bitch on the rag, I just don't like you, period I'll be a rock star and aim a Fender where ya heart at Ya better guard that, I'm Rick Rubin, here's guitar stabs I'm the missile and the satellite I'm the assassin type goin' out blastin like The end of Scarface, remember that gun Al Pacino had? Picture that except it's aimin' dead at a emo fag Me and Buckwild, will shut y'all down With a box of S-950 disks and my style So when I see some hipsters in Williamsburg I'm a ignite their hair gel and dance while them bitches burn You little fairy fucks get the dick sauce Cause ya drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off (uhhhh) [Shouting Chorus: x3] Ya drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off! [Chorus Scratch:] "You drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off" [Bridge Scratch:] "Celph Titled The Rubix Cuban" [Bridge Vocals: x2] I go on... I go on, I go on [Verse 3:] If you're drippin' with wack juice, I can't help y'all You can't get it off, can't get a dog to lick it off Matter fact can't get a dog to lift a paw I love vicious assaults and that's why I did this song Oh you're a hater on the sideline? Sayin' Celph is corny Celph is wack, Celph is this, Celph is that You know what's funny 'bout that? It's ya very own mouth the name Celph is comin' out at (So what about them clowns that say you're weak?) Is they buggin' cocksucka? They wish they could spit my speech And be the Grand Daddy Grenade Man Runnin' the muthafuckin' show like Ferris Bueller at parade jams Rollin' with Diggin' In The Crates fam The Landmine Lieutenant, underground hip hop's new name brand (Recognize) Pay homage or you pay the cost... ("You're drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off") Aus Songtexte Mania