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celph titled & buckwild - wack juice lyrics

[intro: flave]
ayo celph, there’s a lotta wack sh-t goin’ on, man
lot of motherf-ckers drippin’ with wack juice and all that
b-tch–ss motherf-ckin’ garbage music on the internet
n-ggas wearin’ tight jeans and mohawks
like my boy hov said: i don’t wear skinny jeans ’cause my nuts don’t fit
but celph, let these n-ggas know

[verse 1: celph t-tled]
motherf-cker, i came to set it off
(what you mad for?)
these amateurs destroy 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 purchase off of mysp-ce
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 (i wonder)
is your flow not hard, lyrics ain’t on point, production not up to par?
or… ah… you don’t spit hot enough bars?
or ’cause you’re little timmy and you’re just f-ckin’ soft?
your voice sound lame as h-ll (true)
you can’t command a track
plus you use the mic that came with your dell (dude)
made an internet music page, posted some songs up
beg people to check them, 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 maneouvers send jabs at losers like i’m zab judah
(he ain’t talkin’ ’bout me at all)
b-tch, you’re drippin’ with wack juice and you can’t get it off

[hook]
you’re drippin’ with wack juice and you can’t get it off
you’re drippin’ with wack juice and you can’t get it off
you’re drippin’ with wack juice and you can’t get it off
“you’re drippin’ with wack juice and you can’t get it off”

[verse 2: celph t-tled]
i bring it straight to ya, i won’t kick no weirdo literature
over trash beats with a stupid–ss time signature
think you’re so fresh movin’ rap forward?
but that’s when i’m pressin’ fast forward
if the future of hip-hop is some f-ggots with mohawks
tight clothes and women scarfs, then i’m gone
back to that gutter, back to that bas-m-nt
back to real live microphone sk!lls and not g-y sh-t
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 b-tch on a rag – i just don’t like you, period
i’ll be a rock star and aim my fender where your heart at
you better guard that, i’m rick rubin, here’s guitar stabs
i’m the missile and the satellite
i’m the -ss-ssin type goin’ out blastin’ like the end of scarface
remember that gun al pacino had?
picture that except it’s aimin’ dead at an emo f-g
me and buckwild will shut y’all down
with a box of s950 discs and my style
so when i see some hipsters in williamsburg
i’mma ignite they heads yellin’ “dance!” while them b-tches burn
you little fairy f-cks get the d-ck sauce
’cause you’re drippin’ with wack juice and you can’t get it off

[verse 3: celph t-tled]
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 l!ck it off
matter of fact, can’t get a dog to lift a paw
i love vicious -ssaults 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? (what?)
it’s your very own mouth the name celph is comin’ out at (d-mn)
(so what about them clowns that say you’re weak?)
is they buggin’, c-cksucker, they wish they could spit my speech
and be the granddaddy grenade man
runnin’ the motherf-ckin’ 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”

- celph titled buckwild lyrics

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