The Cella Dwellas Knew (feat. Quelle Chris)

Right, right, right, right Yes, yes, yes, ok, ok, yes, yes, yes Right, right, right, right, right, right Yes, yes Ok, ok, ok, ok Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes Right, right, right, right, right, right Right, right, right, right Ok, ok, yes, yes, yes So many rappers exist in the land of the lost I never heard it, but I used to see the ad in The Source We know the flavor lost it's kick since dipping bread in the sauce We still spit like stick and rat in the jaws I still spit, grabbing the dick in my drawers Big Willie style, all in it Fit stylin' with low spinach All vintage Swole bidness We was elbow throwing in two triple oh And spreading love the BK way, like Deuce Bigelow Doot doots in the ad-libs but tears when I rap, niggas soul Close to the great beyond be all niggas know Twenty years we been on niggas throats On niggas necks like baby mom's initials Chokers, decks loaded You either Aces or Jokers The industry was funded by baseheads and smokers Who are you? You must be new Let me show you the rope-a-dope bitch Wear 'em down till they notice your second, third, fourth magnum opus Too many rappers exist in the land of the lost I never heard it, but I used to see the ad in The Source We know the flavor lost its kick since dipping bread in the sauce So many rappers exist in the land of the lost Too many rappers exist in the land of the lost I never heard it, but I used to see the ad in The Source You know the flavor lost it's kick since dipping bread in the sauce So many rappers exist in the land of the lost I'm so tired and simultaneously so wired It's new money and old tyrants to co-sign it Snow bunnies that say nigga when niggas ain't around Cause niggas laid it down and they quotin' what niggas rhyming My old timers my peers and now I'm an old timer to my peers But cheers, we just getting better with years I'm every up and coming cold rapper's man in the mirror I fly high like Jim Jones smoking clones in the Leer Talk to me about paying dues You dudes wasn't there I done seen entire crews disappear into thin air My pen's Rare like Donkey, Diddy, and Killer Instinct We broke molds while most titty rolled and trend seeked Shin-deep, since beats banging out of the MP We were put on Dilla then Silk, Murda, and MP Cracking cigarillos and nickel bags with the stem seeds Everfresh juice with loose tipping fifths till they empty Too many rappers exist in the land of the lost I never heard it, but I used to see the ad in The Source We know the flavor lost it's kick since dipping bread in the sauce Too many rappers exist in the land of the lost