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lirik lagu just a feelin’ – celph titled

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[– feat. majik most:]
[– originally appeared on majik most’s alb-m, “you got jokes?!?!”:]

[verse one: majik most]
i wanna make a mill so i can change and act strange-
get an andre 3000 wig with some bangs
i’ll hang and bang your frame like the predator do
turn in your alb-m kid, i’m the editor dude
i’m takin’ out you, your producer and your crew
(ayo, that’s why they hate you)
i’ma spit in your food
turn in your eggs and steak
just throw it off your plate
you’re shook cause your mom called and pre-booked a date rape

[celph t-tled:]
now when thugs hear this beat, they wanna do the hammer dance
i keep so many guns on me
i gotta rock hammer pants
god d-mn i’m the man
(who’s that?)
i’ve been a star since pat benatar been a star
i seen you talkin’ to some men at the bar
but i ain’t know who they was
here’s a round on us
we gonna throw ’em some slugs
launch ’em a scud
and put the glock to the back of your head
my burner stay scaldin’ hot
leave you with a balding spot

[chorus: -{scratching-}]
“y’all shut up and listen”
“just a feeling”
“ain’t nothin’, ain’t frontin'”
“just a feeling”
“b-tch, yeah, we murder the rest”
“just a feeling”
“y’all in trouble now”
“y’all shut up and listen”

“just a feeling”

“ain’t nothin’, ain’t frontin'”

“just a feeling”

“b-tch, yeah, we murder the rest”

“just a feeling”
“that bullsh-ts not me, that bullsh-t is you” – krs-one

[verse 2:]
i’m a dangerous man like highly flammable flannels
(and what?) and lit roman candles (oh)
majik man handles
my groping -ss, flat breast sick s-x scandal
in my private jet you can bet i’m not sober
reverend run’s on a runway, i”ll run his -ss over
i’ll leave your melon with a m-ssive comb over
diagnose with melanoma and gang green and a coma
and i’ll eat your spleen with kidney beans and it’s over

[celph t-tled:]
don’t stick your head out
it’s huntin’ season for duck n-gg-s
elmer fudd with the pump loaded
you better duck n-gg-s
no rogaine just pro pain to make your wig flammable
keep my weapon concealed inside a stuffed animals
stash rifles in giraffe necks
smack you with a hockey stick
now that’s a bad check
why give a b-tch some chedda
when i can come home and jack off
to some old school rap videos by salt-n-pepa

[repeat chorus:]

[verse 3: ~majik most~]
catch you broke kids on radar
i see you on the beacon
come to your house and just punch your beak in
me and vicious stevens dump your body in the deep end
(stupid motherf-cker)
you got caught tryin’ to peak in
when your little sister m-st-rb-t-d to me speakin’
i freak the industry
stay on my job
motherf-ck a gun b-tt
i’ll give you a gun job
now you need sponge bob to soak up blood clots

[celph t-tled:]
yeah
me and majik the tag team of rap
toe taggin’ your team into rap
your grandma is gettin’ clapped
(you let the guns rumble?)
n-gg- i’m spice-1’s stunt double
sprayin’ flames at your grill until your face bubbles
demonic aroma therapy
burnin’ flesh and kerosene
groundin’ your brains into canned hams with yams and beans
and it seems your studio is my bathroom stall
come through rockin’ a pea coat and p-ss on y’all

[repeat chorus:]

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