Tampa International Remix by Celph Titled Lyrics
(Verse 1: Funkghost)
Yo, fabulous movers, we do you like extravagant rulers
With savage maneuvers, run through you
Even crashing computers, we get like Brian De Palma
When applying the drama, we tie it up on ya
Like messing with a flying parana
We got a plan to vanish in the transatlantic
When jams are planted while overseas my fans go frantic
Put in plain we in the chain like we Jane Seymore
But all you see is poetry and blood stained keyboards
See lord that’s why we keep upping trouble knee deep
Got receipts from when we bubbled at the double tree suite
Foreign exchange its strange how we torn your frame
So in the fame while others sound boring and lame
The flavor we on, similar to Lela Rochon
While haters are bomb, take it to a state of beyond
Don Juan won ton, Egyptian musk a clips a bust designed
And then dipped in plush, you know what
Chorus
In T-I we try to be hi
And it lasts to the party don’t stop
T-I we fly so see why
Make your body rock
The dope flip, so sick, it don’t quit
Got dough, just in case you don’t know
The whole clique, so thick, so don’t slip
Rock flows international
(Verse 2: I-Man)
Caught crashing, bashing, the lyrical point guard be smashing
The cement, international coming soon, peep the fashion
It’s goons in masks and ass verbal good ass crashing
Sound splashing, dancing on your grave monster mashing
Tango with cashing, yo call me manimal, half man
All the rest is primal animal, spiritual cannibal
Dirty tricks, I got a handful, I’m dropping anvils
On the wack cats that want to act like fucking damsels
In distress, lyrical bench press on my chest
Led slugs from a chrome snub, it’s hard to digest
I guess wedlock, is deadlock, transform into grim rock
Throw that ass in a headlock pile drive you down into bedrock
Life’s a guy, why not block is Salem’s lot, no need for storyline
Because my mind is the plot, I got it locked down from Glock town
To the shark clowns my rocks scrounge homie in any fly cop sounds
Surround my four pound pop from the top of mound
The god thunderous of war, call me Mr. Brown
Chorus
In T-I we try to be hi
And it lasts to the party don’t stop
T-I we fly so see why
Make your body rock
The dope flip, so sick, it don’t quit
Got dough, just in case you don’t know
The whole clique, so thick, so don’t slip
Rock flows international
(Verse 3: Phobi One)
The world’s a ghetto, typical thugs
Plus the drugs, plus I shouldn’t settle
Less is never pits and the rugs plush
Jack of all trades, merchants of death
And habitats crack on all phase
The livest show, the one I’m rapping at
Through the grapevine
Prime time define the great mind
All your fake rhymes
While mine shines on baselines, like a novelist
Best seller books and the rap sheets
Got all of this, fame the name, plus the fat beats
The T-town, fun in the sun
Subtropical, the beat down
Chrome to your dome by drug mafias
Loosen up, 20 ounce cups and kids boozing up
Gin and coke, getting rope while me and ghost producing cuts
Reanimate ball down and butter like Land O Lakes
Can’t stand the taste of blood on the floor and cans of mace
I don’t know why they try and battle P-H-O-B-I
They up the creek knee high, cause I rip the skee-i
(Verse 4: Celph Titled)
Yo, behold the spectrum, T-P-A anthem
From the don of the 8-1-3, Celph Titled, mystery
From which my calculations equal that of shadows
With no physical source, leaving inconclusive reports
Unorthodox repertoire, composed of the Chrome Depot
And the reservoir, dropping state metaphor
I used to sell tapes out the trunk right next to the gun rack
Where we keep the genie and the rugs at
Fry the bullets out the barrel, make you eat the shit
Sample you screaming for help and make a beat with it
Its simple science, that why my five star alliance holds
Format contraptions, that’s Y2K compliant
Funkghost network put you up on something
Mega heat spray, lift you up with something
It’s pirates of the Caribbean and I’m the Cuban
Knowledge for the future, historic pollution
Chorus
In T-I we try to be hi
And it lasts to the party don’t stop
T-I we fly so see why
Make your body rock
The dope flip, so sick, it don’t quit
Got dough, just in case you don’t know
The whole clique, so thick, so don’t slip
Rock flows international
Yo, fabulous movers, we do you like extravagant rulers
With savage maneuvers, run through you
Even crashing computers, we get like Brian De Palma
When applying the drama, we tie it up on ya
Like messing with a flying parana
We got a plan to vanish in the transatlantic
When jams are planted while overseas my fans go frantic
Put in plain we in the chain like we Jane Seymore
But all you see is poetry and blood stained keyboards
See lord that’s why we keep upping trouble knee deep
Got receipts from when we bubbled at the double tree suite
Foreign exchange its strange how we torn your frame
So in the fame while others sound boring and lame
The flavor we on, similar to Lela Rochon
While haters are bomb, take it to a state of beyond
Don Juan won ton, Egyptian musk a clips a bust designed
And then dipped in plush, you know what
Chorus
In T-I we try to be hi
And it lasts to the party don’t stop
T-I we fly so see why
Make your body rock
The dope flip, so sick, it don’t quit
Got dough, just in case you don’t know
The whole clique, so thick, so don’t slip
Rock flows international
(Verse 2: I-Man)
Caught crashing, bashing, the lyrical point guard be smashing
The cement, international coming soon, peep the fashion
It’s goons in masks and ass verbal good ass crashing
Sound splashing, dancing on your grave monster mashing
Tango with cashing, yo call me manimal, half man
All the rest is primal animal, spiritual cannibal
Dirty tricks, I got a handful, I’m dropping anvils
On the wack cats that want to act like fucking damsels
In distress, lyrical bench press on my chest
Led slugs from a chrome snub, it’s hard to digest
I guess wedlock, is deadlock, transform into grim rock
Throw that ass in a headlock pile drive you down into bedrock
Life’s a guy, why not block is Salem’s lot, no need for storyline
Because my mind is the plot, I got it locked down from Glock town
To the shark clowns my rocks scrounge homie in any fly cop sounds
Surround my four pound pop from the top of mound
The god thunderous of war, call me Mr. Brown
Chorus
In T-I we try to be hi
And it lasts to the party don’t stop
T-I we fly so see why
Make your body rock
The dope flip, so sick, it don’t quit
Got dough, just in case you don’t know
The whole clique, so thick, so don’t slip
Rock flows international
(Verse 3: Phobi One)
The world’s a ghetto, typical thugs
Plus the drugs, plus I shouldn’t settle
Less is never pits and the rugs plush
Jack of all trades, merchants of death
And habitats crack on all phase
The livest show, the one I’m rapping at
Through the grapevine
Prime time define the great mind
All your fake rhymes
While mine shines on baselines, like a novelist
Best seller books and the rap sheets
Got all of this, fame the name, plus the fat beats
The T-town, fun in the sun
Subtropical, the beat down
Chrome to your dome by drug mafias
Loosen up, 20 ounce cups and kids boozing up
Gin and coke, getting rope while me and ghost producing cuts
Reanimate ball down and butter like Land O Lakes
Can’t stand the taste of blood on the floor and cans of mace
I don’t know why they try and battle P-H-O-B-I
They up the creek knee high, cause I rip the skee-i
(Verse 4: Celph Titled)
Yo, behold the spectrum, T-P-A anthem
From the don of the 8-1-3, Celph Titled, mystery
From which my calculations equal that of shadows
With no physical source, leaving inconclusive reports
Unorthodox repertoire, composed of the Chrome Depot
And the reservoir, dropping state metaphor
I used to sell tapes out the trunk right next to the gun rack
Where we keep the genie and the rugs at
Fry the bullets out the barrel, make you eat the shit
Sample you screaming for help and make a beat with it
Its simple science, that why my five star alliance holds
Format contraptions, that’s Y2K compliant
Funkghost network put you up on something
Mega heat spray, lift you up with something
It’s pirates of the Caribbean and I’m the Cuban
Knowledge for the future, historic pollution
Chorus
In T-I we try to be hi
And it lasts to the party don’t stop
T-I we fly so see why
Make your body rock
The dope flip, so sick, it don’t quit
Got dough, just in case you don’t know
The whole clique, so thick, so don’t slip
Rock flows international