Maylay Sparks, Louis Logic, Celph Titled, Apathy - Paper Mache (Dirty) lyrics

Yeah, everybody get up like
I said rick Smooth, what up?
(Everybody in the front, get up! What up?)
Tah Shamel yo, it’s Maylay Sparks, 2001

In the silhouette, standing erect
Tower projects, insects cling to the steps
Oral sex, my head blessed, Backwoods
Steamed in conquest
The cello rest against my chest
Stroke the songstress in unison, yeah
It’s our heart
Feeling support on my dolos, V cut the bottle
Siento portal
My journal read and spoken external
Through mass verbal, my herbal habit Magic
Puff
Dragon and purple, my inner circle violate it
Suckers annihilated, shroom
We’re playing MF Doom
Plum skins, I’ma fondle ‘em ten more stamps
That ain’t no problem, laser light
Power sublime
Sound leaking through the Terrordome
Big gold chains
And herringbones from Yellowstone
Parties on the rocks
In Arizon’ to Stonehenge (Rocked ill fests)
(From London to Sweden) And London’s fans?
They X-ed 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 chin"
("What you say to me is just paper-thin")
I do this often, Philly to Boston
Rah’ blends
("What you say to me is just paper-thin")

In full effect, records get wrecked
Percocets
Hennessey fifth, chase it with Becks
Fleeing suspect: Maylay controversy
The Bill of Rights entice the
Most forbidden of privileges
Rolling dice, I melt ice, draw 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 Orientals
Love instrumentals and label-lick
Slip in abyss slipping a disk

Slip ‘em a hit of this
Strychnine laced-up ridiculousness and
Watch ‘em trip
Like 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 a 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
Verses make your vertebrae
Curve away from trips like I’m
The new Tim Leary
We 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 chin"
("What you say to me is just paper-thin")
I do this often, Philly to Boston
Rah’ blends
("What you say to me is just paper-thin")

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
A pack’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 FM f ‘em
A Super Mario nigga that
Lay pipe without discretion
I’m I’ll, barbeque your ice up on the grill
Make you relocate to farmlands
With cows and windmills (Ayyo, 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 darts
The emcee on stage seen in
The mind of Maylay Sparks

Blood-breather, rip open your chest
Take a breath fill the lungs with red
Sess when getting 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
Writing 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 ‘til dark
Stalk while you walk through parks
Until the Son of Sam’s dog
Barks at Maylay Sparks