Watch Your Language Demo

by Cell

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released June 3, 2010



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Cell Lynn, Massachusetts

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Track Name: Watch Your Language
Give me 10 seconds,
I'll have all this mics checking.
Since I was young
they said I ask too many questions.
Now that I'm grown,
they say I'm coming out perplexing.
Changing your perception.
Rigged like the election.
You better check that forecast,
I'm not what you're expecting.
Like Fox News,
spitting political intention
in red hues, bending spines,
replacing tension.
If you spitting fiction,
you better re-access your time spent.
If you religious,
you better board up in the convent.
And Mr. President,
while we on the subject,
I've been seeing
millions of civillions
who are upset.
They be catching much wreck.
They a little suspect.
While we stay poor,
politicians gaining prospects.
Corrupt motherfuckers
camping out in the office.
I guess that's the process:
fuck your brother and make profit.
Lord of the Rings,
but you never knew the Hobbit.
Never trust a prophet,
hold your bible when you vomit.
Fuck the booth,
I'm about to go spit outside,
about the truth.
Add yeast to the dough, and rise.
It's the youth
that we got to keep our eyes on.
I got the proof,
that we need to get our rise on.
There's no excuse,
to get lost in the horizon.

Fuck a chop shop,
I'll whip a drop top.
I'm looking for a girl
who's down with hopscotch
and can pop scotch.
And watch Lost,
while chewing pop-rocks.
Respect at no cost.
A neck with no cross,
and no Religion.
It's just my opinion,
that these red-headed women
with hair like fine linen
are leaving my head spinning.
With thoughts of French tips,
thin neck with wide hips,
green eyes with big lips.
I spit this,
with quickness.
I got no misses,
I just blow kisses.
And as to what they blow?
That's none of your business.
Personally, I never cater to adversity.
I'm used to diversity
so bowing down would be a first for me.
Even with the worst of me,
I'll leave you with a thirst for me.
In the university,
I always was the first to speak.
Like Rich Gere,
I flip to fifth gear.
It took a mere year,
for me to appear here.
MC's be scared,
like No Fear Shakespeare.
Your shit be queer,
like a dick in the rear.
Let me be clear: shit shakes when I'm near,
like earthquakes,
when the Earth breaks,
in a couple of years.
Track Name: The Golden Ratio
Seed, never leech when you're giving to the streets though. Free a beat and see all types of people.

I'm the fresh dressed guest
with some cursive on my chest.
I do this with respect
for dudes like Mos Def.
I ain't no veteran act,
I know better then that,
I just laugh
when these other cats
claim they can rap.
Boy you soft as a feather
I'm as sharp as a tack,
and in fact I rap
with winds gusts at my back.
It's Cell,
the curious confessor of the youth,
a professor,
spitting nectar,
out all angles of the booth.
And the truth is,
I float like cupid.
Your shit is useless,
until you prove it.
What are you stupid?
See the Earth? Move it.
See your turf? Lose it.
Like a smurf,
crawling out your bruises.
I chill in reality,
but in actuality,
through trees,
I see,
that you live inside a fallacy.
Oh shit, who's Cell?
He's from another galaxy.
I never heard a beat like this before dog,
he has to be.
All these hair weaves are making me dry heave,
I'm flowing like Owen
I'm growing like New Leaves.
I lay low,
like a loaded gun in your home.
This disk will raise interest
like a student loan.
I'm fully grown,
and much more mature than before.
Leaving MC's sore
because I'm filling every pore
with pimples and cysts.
It's really as simple as this,
let me insist,
you stay until class is dismissed.
I keep adding to my list,
of books, films, and scripts.
I know it's hard to come to grips,
with the cellular eclipse.

I bleed words like a poet with his wrists slit,
pass it like a blunt around,
no one can miss this.
Homie's in the back like, "Yo, he's classic."
Honey's in the front like, "He's hot, pass it."
"Hey, it's on fire dog, maybe I should Ash it."
Here's your mic dude,
sorry that I trashed it.
Let me place a bet
that I'll leave you with your seat wet.
Fuck the Freemasons,
I'm the best kept secret.
Learn to skim the radio dog,
no presets.
I got the king
that you're missing from your chess set.
Black with sugar
in my coffee like an Aztec.
Nice in rap
and I haven't passed a test yet.
Arrested Development,
your shits only relative,
my shits always relevant,
come on dude it's evident.
Here, I got the evidence,
my will is imperative.
Maybe you were Never Meant.
Your lyrics are kind cold,
let me put them in the toaster.
You fleece cheap beats
like a post-it note coaster.
Playing Xbox,
using thoughts,
no controller.
Flow be golden,
got it rolling,
like a boulder.
You think I'm hot now?
Check when I'm older.
My shit's game changing,
separate it like a folder.
Not making sense like the state of Arizona.
Wise-ass younging dressed in green,
callme Yoda.