Guerilla Orchestra lyrics

(Intro: Tino Vega)

Yeah, I like this one, yeah
Yo, Celph, Apathy and Tino Vega, yo
Unnh hunh (Set it on him like that)
Tampa Florida, baby yeah

(Verse 1: Tino Vega)
Ay, yo, pass me a hat about these black ashes
Be out as fast as I can your man got bodied
In the back of a stolen Ac
By black trash baggers, what’s going on
Nowadays we got gay rappers
Singing our songs and hearing me wrong
Till they repping it strong baby, all day long
Cliques rapping about making moves
Playing it calm climbing up Jacobs ladder
See a mill and we on
What hold down fort, you thought wrong
Blood sport, loud in the place, I’m loud in your face
Sirens mad loud when they chase
Sick of them jakes, I want to put sticks in they steaks, yo
Walkman through sales, you caught attacking them stakes
Keep dropping the hot sh*t for the payers to hate, you know
So fell me, if not, I don’t care, throw your girls panties in the air
That’s how we on the keep, flaunting them drawers
We’re going to pawn them
Your man keep talking that spit, I’m going to dog him
Got dreams of marrying a Latin chick, a rapper b*tch from Harlem
You can ask the surfer dudes and hippies if I’m awesome
Yo, back up off him this n*ggas too hot, run in your spot
Leaving with everything you got
Don’t believe me best not, put the stress on the dreadlocks
n*ggas get props, lick 10 shots for hip hop
What, what? Bring it on, you don’t want it, what
(Verse 2: Celph Titled)
Yo, unh, yo
I don’t get no iller than Celph Titled
For God sakes
We move in silence except for the sound
The Glock makes
Where I’m from, we never name names
We just be pointing infrared beams
And watch the barrel start to spit flames
Insane from birth, flip game with words
Inflict pain and it hurts
In actuality, I’m know astronomically
Leave a mother f*cker split in half
I heard you talking this and that
We taking no shorts like church dress codes
I need a b*tch that’ll stash my guns inside of casseroles
Test my gangster and the outcome is straight A’s
Bullet holes from AKs, wounds bleeding for eight days
It’s kind of f*cked up how we some raw n*ggas
That’ll spit some hardcore sh*t over beats like this
I must be out my f*cking mind without a doubt
My fam keep it gorilla with banana clips
We let the monkey out n*gga

(Verse 3: Apathy)
Yeah, unh unh unh, what
Yeah, me and your girl will take a walk through the park
Late night in the dark, I’ll caress the back of her neck
Then rip out her heart, sharp mentality
Apathy grips gats, spits raps b*tch slaps chicks back
I’m funky chewing tic tacs cause after I eat flesh
My breath smells like death
After I f*ck chicks, their breath smells like sweat
I’ll lock it down, c*ck the pound
Be careful who you talk around
Cops found another mic to draw the white chalk around
And while you small cats are trying to bust off gats
I got to wreck it over records, so I dust off wax
Ap, Celph and Tino can slam it like we’re Tino Santana
From Tampa Bay to CT my gamma rays change my brain
Like Lou Ferrigno, I’ll spit flows to rip shows and get dough
I’ll stick hoes who lick di*k until it blows
I’ll hit Foes the clip goes and gats, you’ll never test Ap
So just put away your raps, you’re wack