Lyrics for Way Of The Gun by Celph Titled :
[Intro: scratching]
*And this is the way*
*We rock that*

[Verse 1: Esoteric]
Abandon ship, Esoteric’s at the landing strip
Plan to rip your clan to bits, you standing stiff like you inanimate
The jam I spit, analysts in such a panic with
They try to cancel it and sample it till this there’s a better way of understanding it
I know you cannot handle it
I’m on some fancy sh*t while your crib is candle lit
But still the candidate, quick to dismantle your manuscript
You think you scare me with banana clips? Well there’s no chance of it
My no control vocals, roll over your patrol
I’m poking holes in heads like I’m making totem poles
We’re the chosen souls (Demigodz rep to the death)
So sucker step to the left, I’m eating all my older goals
Reading holy scrolls like I’m reading yesterday’s news
On the funny strip, come and rip, test Shay and lose
Yo I’m ripping cats total son, you best stay in 2s
Cause my split personality is slaying y’all crews

[Verse 2: Celph Titled]
Celph Titled’s on some real insane sick sh*t
Cut the president’s face off and rob a motherf*cking bank with it
I sleep with a machete motherf*cker I got guns too
That’ll put holes in your torso big enough to jump through
We don’t recite rap verses, instead we spit grenades
Can’t write a rhyme without some f*cked up sh*t to say
When I question you, I won’t speak proper I’ll ask you
f*ck a meat cleaver, we got heaters and mac millies, act silly?
And witness the flame of the cannon blast
Recycle your calcium and use your scar tissue to wipe my ass
Send in recruits and I’m turning special forces
Into nothing but skeletons rocking berets and burnt musket blades
In Hell’s Kitchen we keep the shells spitting
Don’t think its strange, we use our block as a shooting range
Highway to Heaven or the Devil’s crossing
I got explosives that’ll make your body land in Michael Landon’s coffin

[Hook: scratching]
*And this is the way*

[Verse 2: Lord Digga]
Call me di*k-Scott Heron, or heroine
The dope crew veteran, y’all think that you’re better than
Y’all n*ggas better lay low
I flip MCs like bricks of yayo
Y’all from Montreal you get your brain exposed
Brook-nam time bomb, watch me explode
Extra magazines, watch me reload
I gotta spit bar code, but n*ggas can’t scan me
Rap with no legs, so n*ggas can’t stand me
I got more tools than Stanley
Your Peppermint Patty flows, nothing but candy, y’all sweet
And weak and your f*cking up my teeth ’cause you’re all I eat
Reverend Run with guns, but I don’t preach
Bust TECs get wet like sex on a beach
Call me a Robin Leach, I want blood money
I smoke MCs like the gummies, y’all ain’t gully
My n*gga Apathy running up in your baby’s mothers
I’m f*cking your sisters, duck taping your brothers
Cause them fools didn’t believe, we wasn’t brother we other
Got styles for life, y’all Lifestyle rubbers

[Verse 4: Apathy]
I got a metal magnum like I’m Megatron, metamorph to a weapon
Whipping b*tches if they stepping, I’m ripping tissue to bloody messes
I’m missing some vital pieces inside of my cerebellum
Building adrenaline ’til I’m trembling
And tripling my physical mass to clash with crews
I blast fast and smash fags, I’m bad news
I’ll bruise brains and rapidly rip apart your anatomy
‘Cause Apathy is fatter than a Phat Farm faculty
Ap’s known for spitting, plus shots I’m licking
Got more biscuits then Kentucky Fried Chicken
Been chilling with thugs, that’ll fill you with slugs
Since you was pushing Hot Wheels across your living room rugs
I’m a Demigod, God damn it, God please forgive me
God bless, but God forbid kids try to spit for me
I f*ck you up spiritually, mentally and physically
Father please forgive wack MCs tryna rap with me