The Gospel According To... (feat. Planetary of Outerspace)

Ladies and gentlemen. Brothers and sisters. People all around the world. You're now in the presence of greatness. 'Cause you're now rockin' with the Demigodz. I be your host tonight. I go by the name of Blacastan. And we gon' listen to the gospel. Oh yeah, the gospel according to Celph motherfuckin' Titled
 The microphone mutilator with bazookas and grenades
 In excess and surplus, how effortless words come
 Y'all played out like Charlie Sheen t-shirts and coffee mugs
 I'm lookin' for Ben Frank so somebody best cough him up
 Or I'mma lunch and murder, cookin' ribs on bunsen burners
 Lucky I ain't Kentucky Fried so motherfuck the Colonel
 Barrel to your sternum, cylinder to your medulla
 Canister to your keister
 For five stacks I'm willin' to shoot ya
 Hit me out of fear and the silhouette appears
 The drum magazines that resemble Mickey Mouse ears
 Get slapped in the face by the book of God
 And tag you on Facebook as a faggot tryna look hard
 All you see is the Sig, you ain't seein' the kid
 I'll rob a bank with earrings and a Madea wig
 Flee to the crib, put the dope in the pot
 My gun like my bathroom sink, keep the Scope on the top
 You see? You see? Many have come, and many have tried for glory, but none have achieved it. Except the chosen. And that's the Demigodz. You got slaves and martyrs. And then you got the Pharaohs. The gospel according to Planetary
 Back when they had Rollie Massimino
 I pollied passin' C-notes, rockin' Michael Jack and Tito
 Psychopathic evil with a rifle and a needle
 And started hatin' people, I don't trust niggas neither
 So believe us when we say, the heater's tucked away
 Tomorrow, that's tomorrow, I don't give a fuck today
 I don't wanna fuck with Dre, I'd rather run with my alliance
 If Dre want a verse the motherfucker gotta buy it
 I'm better than whoever, put your money where your mouth at
 Write the type of panic that could push the whole crowd back
 Loud clap, bounce back, I announce that
 Man and Demigodz, count that
 Pharaoh niggas out back
 20 deep, plenty heat
 Not too many beef
 Them niggas know how it go when the Henny creep
 There's plenty seats you can sit through the horror
 Verbal murderer from the criminal authors
 I'm the sickest author, slicker talker, raid your liquor locker
 Lick a shot for all the shitty authors I turn into chicken fodder
 Prime and proper, bitches grip the cock and it's a shocker
 'Cause it's bigger than Chewbacca
 Mount Olympus, it's a monster fam
 No atoms, I go at 'em, I can conquer land
 Stomp your man, have him Mario Batali on the lamb
 I can contraband without protesting 80s arcade games that made these grenades bang
 Fuck your lame gang, I got 11 Pits in Hicksville
 Five will cuddle, six kill
 I'mma Six Million Dollar Man, I got a sick skill so sit still
 I know it's tough for you, I'm number one you're number two
 Yet I'm still the shit, so what you got a gun or two?
 You wouldn't use 'em if a criminal kicked in your door
 Raping your wife on the kitchen floor like "Bitch give me more."
 Plus your little diss is Swiss, you got no interest in war
 You don't click a .44, you say, "click on my store"
 Haha
 I just don't want you to go out and commit murder! Please... We'll go some place else, some place where it doesn't have to be like this
 Oh really? Tell me, where is that place? Where is it? In what remote corner of this country, no the entire goddamn planet? Now you tell me where such a place is and I promise you that I'll never hurt another human being as long as I live. Just one place!
 Them subliminal rhymes can earn you a little casket nap
 Put your life on the line I bet I answer that
 A broke nigga who rap, I'm flippin' birds on a block
 You joke nigga, you the type to spit a verse to a cop
 You a dead man walkin', similar to the Crypt-Keeper
 Got niggas worked up for nothin' like a dick teaser
 Who got you fooled with that high octane?
 Now I'm on some bullshit like Luol Deng
 My speech is precise so weapons that is lethal are mics
 A rebel will make the Devil say "I need Christ in my life"
 You a pretender
 Cross that line, fuck tryin' to injure, man I end ya
 You a fag showin' your gender
 It's funny how cats act goon believin' they rap tunes
 But they speakin' 'til they leakin' from stab wounds
 Now consider yourself blessed motherfuckers. Bass drop!