Texty: Louis Logic. Debacle In A Bottle: A Not Album. Paper Maché.

[Rahsheed/Maylay Sparks:]
Yeah, everybody get up, like I said, Rick Smooth
[Everybody on the floor get up] whatup, (Tah Shamel?)
Yo, It's Maylay Sparks two-thousand and one

In the silhouette, standing erect
Tower projects, insects cling to the steps
Oral sex, my head blessed
Backwards (steamed in conquest?)
The cello rest against my chest
Stroking a (sorceress in unison?)
(Yeah, it's our heart?)
(Throwing support on my dolos?)
(V cut the bottle?)
[? ]my journal[? ]
Red and smoking external
Through mass verbal my herbal habit
Magic puff dragon and purple, my inner circle
Violated suckers annihilated
Shroom playing MF Doom
Plum skins, I'm a fondle 'em
Ten more stamps, there ain't no problem
Laser light, (power?) sublime
Sound leaking through the Terrordome
{Big gold chains and herringbones}
Big gold chains and herringbones from Yellowstone
Parties on the rocks in Arizona to Stonehenge
{Rocked I'll fests from London to Sweden}
And London's fans they exed out
Long binge, pour me the next stout

Bounced all the wack emcees out, they can't win
{What you say to me is just paper thin}
Niggas soft, can't come off, it's embarrassing
{What you say to me is just paper thin}
I said mash out smash mouth go in they glass chins
{What you say to me is just paper thin}
I do this often, Philly to Boston, Rah' blends

In full effect, records get wrecked
Percocet, Hennessey fifth, chase it with Becks
Fleeing suspect: Maylay, controver-sey
The Bill of Rights entice the most forbidden of privileges
Rollin dice, I melt ice, draw/jaw of? the stars
Rinse the earth of negativity, blew out the torch on lady liberty
Quill pens, ink dispense, confederated to true heads
Asian and the African kids, whites with dreads
And fluent/fluid Orientals love instrumentals and label-lake?
Slip in a bis, slip in a dis

[Louis Logic:]
Slip 'em a hit of this strychnine-laced up ridiculousness
And watch em trip liked they slipped on a slick patch of oil
And dispatched the royal blue boys to chase
Cause when the poison takes effect they'll destroy this place
Enjoy the taste of avoiding space and time with your tongue depressed
Flat on the white acid tab like Hunter S.
Then become depressed cause you wish you're the guy that's rhyming
Nonetheless, it's Louis in the sky with diamonds
{Louis in the sky with diamonds}
Going "Bling Bling, " cause if the cops had an inkling
Of the Mickeys I slipped kids I'd be thrown in Sing Sing
I'm talking more Mickeys than a whore's hickeys
Or even worse I've served more Mickeys than Walt Disney
{Say what? }
You didn't hear me, my verse is Mickey vertebrae
Curve away from trips like I'm the new Tim Leary

And bounced all the wack emcees out, they can't win
{What you say to me is just paper thin}
Niggas soft, can't come off, it's embarrassing
{What you say to me is just paper thin}
I said mash out smash mouth go in they glass chins
{What you say to me is just paper thin}
I do this often, Philly to Boston, Rah' blends

[Celph Titled:]
I'm envisioned as a microphone Samaritan
Cause niggas say I rhyme nice
Challenge you to battle and take you out like pork fried rice
Motherfuckers ain't ready for the Celph-Titled onslaught
Try to embrace the flow and then (hack, they'll?) rip your arms off
My beats are classic like novels by Charles Dickens
Bury your body in cement blocks and watch the plot thicken
My frame of mind is on exhibit at museums
And my show is in the Guinness book for filling up Coliseums
I play bitches like radio stations and straight eff 'em
A Super Mario nigga that lay pipe without discretion
I'm I'll, (all but?) threw your ice up on the grill
Make you relocate to farmlands with cows and windmills
[Louis Logic:] {Hey yo, Celph, this ain't a battle, I think you're hallucinating}
I see no evil, inflict blindness in the eyes of Satan
Blurry vision but still a marksman who straight (spray-dars/darts?)
The emcee on stage seen in the eyes of Maylay Sparks

[Apathy:]
[? ] breather, rip open your chest, take a breath
Fill the lungs with red sense', when I get high I smoke death
And meet the grim reaper for reefer, nickel bag full of souls
Secrete a poison toxic chronic, put the beast in a sleeper hold
My hellfire is cold, I be bold, written in my soul
I never sold, I broke the mold like Christ's bread was old
Behold, my coming's foretold, take off your mind blindfold
Cause I'm so fly the fifty-first area stole my steelo
I be low, like Satan's basement
Behold the pale horse, I snuffed the grim reaper
So guess who's the replacement
I wait till dark, stalk while you walk through parks
Until the Son of Sam's dog barks at Maylay Sparks