Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ain't Nuthin' Nice (Dirty)[Dirty], artist - Apathy. Album song Ain't Nuthin' Nice / Every Emcee, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 07.05.1996
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Demigodz Enterprises
Song language: English
Ain't Nuthin' Nice (Dirty)[Dirty] |
Comin for all you punk motherfuckers… |
It Ain’t Nuthin Nice… Celph Titled |
I’m Undefeatable, Biggie would even say I’m unbelievable |
Plus quick to flip like Sport Utility Vehicles |
I crush years, so don’t ever come near, |
Cause it was done from the beginning like Father MC’s career |
A new title holder is here this year |
Ap’s raps got more pussies open than pap smears |
The nicest emcee, you’ll never dispute |
Cause I’ve been rappin since the tree on your Timb boots was roots |
I knock more boots than 40 deuce prostitutes |
but not for loot, only if she’s hot and cute |
Try and cock block my game it’s complete violation |
Cause Apathy’s got more hoes/hose than firestations |
I face off with imitators and take off |
Bring more flavor to the beef than steak sauce |
You think your phatter than Apathy, but you way off, |
You’re soft, and you’ve done more weight loss than Kate Moss |
Let me tell you about my only vice |
It has to do with rockin mics and it ain’t nuthin nice |
Your shit’s finito, I wrap up beef like a burrito |
Underground flow, down low, incognito |
The torpedo, that tore flows, that tore shows, |
through tore clothes, before blows, through torsos, |
It’s Apathy, so large my physical mass occupies |
multiple galaxies like god off calories |
I cock back, rock raps for dickriders, |
My mic is something you should never pick up like hitchhikers |
Above average, y’all better practice |
Even weak emcee’s consider you the wackest |
I heard your debut joint, your song ain’t hot |
Its something that a crackhead would pawn for rock |
I got bombs, with glocks on lock to blow spots |
My flow clocks the speed of mach and won’t stop |
You got a lot of hype, but I know you’re a flop |
Nothin’s really gonna happen, like when the ball drops |
You all stop, you all pussy clot, |
mushy as when a cookie drops in milk |
I pop like when rookie cops with glocks and felt nervous at first |
But the verses reverses, the guilt from the suckers I killed |
I cop green, last and burn like hot steam |
Spit one rhyme and destroy the pop scene |
You cum too quick like a teen with hot dreams |
You wack, while I crack more heads than rock fiends |
I hold power like Imhotep controls magic |
Spin old jazz wax, and spit over static |
I want hip hop to come back and make classics |
Nas should spit it like he did for Illmatic |
My raps add up, like numbers in mathmatics |
I got more tracks than arms of crack addicts |
My wax acts like an axe hackin up faggots |
Im fly, like the adult stage of maggots |
Apathy is the illest on mics its like a habit, |
Even ask Ed O.G. |
«I Got to Have It» |
I bubble your mouth full, like South Pole jackets |
It’s tragic, why you even mess with this rap shit |
Nobody wants to fuck with you like busted fat chicks |
Ya clips aint full, when you pull your gat clips |
Now how you gonna battle this, spittin that wack shit |
Demigodz, Apathy, we on the cut, you know the deal |
my man Unknown on the ones and twos |
yall suckas can lose, |
there is no competition, yall know how we do |
it aint nuthin nice |