Tampa Bay li Celph Titled babanın verse unu atayim direkt uzatmadan

You'll see my face when I attack
No ski-hat or a Jason mask
No laser-beam gleam
So you ain't seein' where I'm aimin' at
Charles Manson clone
Melting flesh like Indiana Jones
It's Tampa's own, Titled the Toolman
Bringin' hammers home (Yup!)
And fame it's know me here
Gats will kill ya
And we'll bust inside your house like Michael Jackson's "Thriller"
Caterpillar arm slasher flick, slash a bitch, distort a thug
Separate the men from the women, like a divorce court judge
I'm not a rapper I'm a rocker in a grunge band
I'm supa' fly
One hell of a helicopter stunt man (Yeah!)
We'll make your guns jam
And leave your forehead crammed
With sharp swords that cut Boars Head ham
And we're back!
It's not +The Torture Papers+ (No!)
We got more claws and razors (Yes!)
A lot of Rambos, Commandos and Terminators (Uh-huh)
You +Die Hard+ when I rhyme bars
Roll an L with the same holy scroll that God's DNA's designed on