Teksty: Celph Titled & Buckwild. Nineteen Ninety Now. Wack Juice.

[Talking Intro: Ant "Flave" Black]
Ayo Celph, it's a lot of wack shit goin' on, man
Lot of muthafuckas drippin' with wack juice and all that
Bitch ass muthafuckin' garbage music on the internet
Niggas wearin' tight jeans and mohawks?
Like my boy Hov said
I don't wear skinny jeans cause my knots don't fit!
Yo Celph, let these niggas know

[Verse 1:]
Muthafucka I came to set it off (What you mad for?)
These amateurs destroyed 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 purchased off of MySpace
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? Is your flow not hard?
Lyrics ain't on point? Production not up to par?
Or, uhhh, you don't spit hot enough bars
Or cause you're little Timmy and you're just fuckin' soft
Your voice sound lame as hell (true)
You can't command the track plus you use the mic that came with your Dell (dude)
Made a internet music page, posted some songs up
Begged people to check 'em, 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 maneuvers
Send jabs at losers like I'm Zab Judah
(He ain't talkin' bout me at all!)
Bitch, ya drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off (yup)

[Shouting Chorus: x3]
Ya drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off!

[Chorus Scratch:]
"You drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off"

[Verse 2:]
I bring it straight to ya, I won't kick no weirdo literature
Over trash beats, with a stupid-ass time signature
Think you so fresh, movin' rap forward
But that's when I'm pressin' fast forward
If the future of hip hop is some faggots with mohawks
Tight clothes and women's scarfs, then I'm gone
Back to that gutter, back to that basement
Back to real live microphone skills and not gay shit
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 bitch on the rag, I just don't like you, period
I'll be a rock star and aim a Fender where ya heart at
Ya better guard that, I'm Rick Rubin, here's guitar stabs
I'm the missile and the satellite
I'm the assassin type goin' out blastin like
The end of Scarface, remember that gun Al Pacino had?
Picture that except it's aimin' dead at a emo fag
Me and Buckwild, will shut y'all down
With a box of S-950 disks and my style
So when I see some hipsters in Williamsburg
I'm a ignite their hair gel and dance while them bitches burn
You little fairy fucks get the dick sauce
Cause ya drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off (uhhhh)

[Shouting Chorus: x3]
Ya drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off!

[Chorus Scratch:]
"You drippin' with wack juice and you can't get it off"

[Bridge Scratch:]
"Celph Titled The Rubix Cuban"

[Bridge Vocals: x2]
I go on... I go on, I go on

[Verse 3:]
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 lick it off
Matter fact can't get a dog to lift a paw
I love vicious assaults 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?
It's ya very own mouth the name Celph is comin' out at
(So what about them clowns that say you're weak?)
Is they buggin' cocksucka? They wish they could spit my speech
And be the Grand Daddy Grenade Man
Runnin' the muthafuckin' 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")