[Intro: Celph Titled]
Move out the motha fuckin' way
Real Godzillas comin' through
Celph Titled and Apathy
Bustin' German Lugers with Antihelden
Snowgoons got them crack cookies, man
DGZ, AOTP - The only letters in the fuckin' alphabet you need to know
Let's get it!

[Verse 1: SirQlate]
Anti – Ich schlachte live einen Weißkopfadler
Mit mehr Promille als ein Treibstofflager (SirQlate!)
Nix Beef – ich schick' dir eine Thaibox Kata
Und sag's wie Nutten mit Herpes: „Ich hab' keinen Kopf dafür.“
Du bist politisch wie Schreibblockaden oder Batiktaschen
Ich bastel' Molotovcocktails aus Ardbegflaschen
Bei Whistleblower hör' ich dich von Flowrider reden
Doch es geht um Einräum'n von Rechten wie in Thor Steinar Läden
Ich seh' obligatorisch verlogene, chronisch devote Snitches
Wie oben ohne Bitches bei Drogenbaronen – Rapszene
Harter Stoff in Lines, den Kids Scheiß andreh'n
Klingt paradox wie in Sitzstreik zu geh'n – Anti

[Verse 2: Celph Titled]
My gun is like a cheating husband, ring off
You bet on your horse then my cheetah runs it, he's off
If I ever get married I'm outlawing the in-law
She cooking every night and I'm breaking the bitch's jaw
These AK rounds cut through bricks
I sold you a brick of cut, so dick what's up?
Experiment with guns name the project shoot
And leave you pussies leaking like a project roof
You the opposite of truth and it's obvious you
Work a janitor job; you left a mop in a booth
Army of the Godz and official pistol spray you
Lead chunks turn you dead fucks to schnitzel and space you
[Hook]
We coming through bringing it to anybody
Bringing the ruckus like some mad mutherfuckers
Not new to this, true to this
No other way, cause we the same cats from back in the day
We coming through bringing it to anybody
Bringing the ruckus like some mad mutherfuckers
Yo, it gets no realer than this kid
Only the real can relate

[Verse 3: Abroo]
Das Wichtigste zuerst: Hör' ich noch einmal „Swag“ und „YOLO“
Ist dein Trauerfeierbild dein letztes Pressefoto
Mach nicht auf Walter White, Chemogott mit 'nem Morgenzeitungnebenjob
Erst Straßenmetaphorik dann Borderline Emorock
Antihelden sprechen Nostalgiker an
Und Skeptiker werden zu Nichtschwimmern, sie halten den Rand
Dein Arsch braucht kein'n Stock, das ist nicht Nordic Walking
Bei uns sieht 'n Saufgelage aus als wär' es Waterboarding
Deutsche Rapper legen Wert auf den Aufbau von Muskeln
Augenbrauen zupfen, Szeneschwänze aussaugen und lutschen
Zwischen Indieband, Instagram und Banksy Bildern
Machen eure Idole Selfies mit Handyfiltern – Ihr seid alle Wack!

[Verse 4: Apathy]
Mathematician, magician, rapping addiction
My written, half of it's fiction, precision crafted for spitting
I'm splitting atoms like fission, envision
Wrath I'm inflicting, it's sickening
Half of these vixens is pigeons, after the whips and the chips
And acting like chickens who tricking, trapping, and tripping
So listen, Ap is the missing chapter: the master edition, envision
Crack in the kitchen that's mixed with battery acid that's drippin', I'm droppin' a droplet a toxic concoction, a composition
The fact or it's fiction, I'm givin' crackers a whippin'
Relax 'em like a Craftmatic adjustable mattress position
I rap with precision, Iraqis on radical missions
Eradicate the irrational rations last in the distance
Give ya forty lashes, lacerate ya ligaments
When Ap'll display the raps it activates the ignorance
Decapitate an innocent virgin squirming for freedom
I bleed em out and beat 'em, chop their body up and eat 'em
[Interlude]
You pull any of your crazy shit with us
You flash your piece out on the lanes
I'll take it away from you and stick it up your ass and pull the fuckin' trigger until it goes, click, click

[Hook]
Right now, we coming through bringing it to anybody
Bringing the ruckus like some mad mutherfuckers
Not new to this, true to this
No other way, cause we the same cats from back in the day
We coming through bringing it to anybody
Bringing the ruckus like some mad mutherfuckers
Yo, it gets no realer than this kid
Only the real can relate