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the last supper - outerspace lyrics

[verse 1: crypt the warchild]
i ain’t tryin’ to win the battle i’mma win the war
i don’t dance in the club dawg, i dance wit wolves
sip on a fine potion, enhance my thoughts
spit murder death k!ll, i can’t get caught
been sick so long, i think i need a clinic
you got tons of guns, ok we get it
i’mma true emcee see i don’t need a gimmick
don’t wanna build wit y’all unless you mean digits
and i don’t get invovled wit you weak b-tches
i keep my problems solved put ’em in deep ditches
you’se a internet ho, you tryin’ to network
you make a few bucks at show, what is your net worth?
waitin’ on my downfall, don’t hold your breath first
and if your squad run deep i push a stretch he-rs-
y’all all welcomed to the jungle where this vet lurk
where kamach and celph t-tled, i hope that vest work

{hook: planetary] x2
there’s nothin’ you can say to us
too many n-ggas hatin’ us
its outta line, we outta time
celph sprayin’ em up
kamachi layin’ the cut
with bread breakin’ it up
aotp!!! ain’t n0body greater then us

[verse 2: celph t-tled]
i dash outta my bat cave (yea), wit black shades
a fresh fade and an onyx mad face
this is the deadliest rap you discovered
we overflow storm drains bring it back to the gutter (gutter)
and no you couldn’t match to my voice from a speech course (no)
i talk raspy, i’mma animal, i speak horse/ho-rs- (haha)
my vocal chords is tyrannosaurus
and the coordinates from the signal in sp-ce went undistorted
says that i’m more morbid, more then porpoise abortions
amongst dead swordfish, sort of corpse -ssortment(huh?)
army swordsman, pharaoh marksmen (uh)
we got canisters of carnage, barrels of -rs-nic (ah)
i’m heralded often as one of underground raps
wildest, illest, greatest, sickest and vengeance
a spittin’ image of a satanic sp-wn, wit eight mechanic arms
make a fist in each one’ll blast you wit a cannon ball

[verse 3: planetary]
i don’t write my freestyles, that’s some new york sh-t
if it’s written the composition cost a few more chips
i’m illadelph born, scorned by the bush administration
hopefully barack can help the children get some motivation
i’mma punish every politician try to hurt my babies
i hope mccain od off cocaine wit his lady
but anyway, back to the rap dungeon circ-mference
my comfort zone is attract to make n-ggas wanted to throw punches
you lunge then i’m leapin’, you front i’m feastin’
you bumming i’m beastin’, it ain’t nuttin’ to beat ’em
till the blood is underneath ’em
i bring the thunder even if the sun a hundred beamin’
six million ways to die, here go a hundred keep ’em
i’mma f-ckin’ demon, b-tch n-gga guzzle s-m-n
like cheerleaders on the side, what’s the f-ckin’ reason?
y’all n-ggas look like water boys on stage
type of n-ggas that i pray get torn apart wit the gauge

[hook]

[verse 4: chief kamachi]
yeah, african priest, dashiki’s wit bullet holes
try to k!ll me, i get in the casket an pull it closed
my whole angle, serpent in the rainbow
spit voodoo rap, hear it in the haitian-congo
daily is break dance, mind in the straight trance
old school murder, arms crossed in a great stance
’80s style, dirty louis vuitton
you talk mob sh-t but i really flew them to milan
between the crypt and planet
straight from the strip wit advantage
but from the heavens i’m banished
yeah! but the sevens will manage
cuz the sixes is b-tches
five pointed stars on the stage, slittin’ their wrists’
scorched by the beautiful eyes of the pharaohs mistress
number 1 on the mythical hit list, i am this
just look at the way the gem glist
messiah marley, keep some solomon stems twists

[hook] x2

[outro: chief kamachi (celph t-tled)]
ah (rock-rock-on)
y’all know what it is
(os, rock-rock-on)
aotp n-gga (rock-rock-on)
celph t-tled (rock-rock-on)
os (rock-rock-on)
chief kamachi (rock-rock-on)

- outerspace lyrics

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