Tampa International

(Verse 1: Funkghost)

Yo, fabulous movers, we do you like extravagant rulers

With savage maneuvers, run through you

Even cra*******ng 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 ******* 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 cra*******ng, ba*******ng, the lyrical point guard be sma*******ng

The cement, international coming soon, peep the fa*******on

It’s goons in masks and ass verbal good ass cra*******ng

Sound spla*******ng, dancing on your grave monster ma*******ng

Tango with ca*******ng, 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 ******* 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 ******* 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 *******nes 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 *******t

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 ******* 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