Lyrics Can't Leave Rap Alone - Apathy, Celph Titled, Ryu (of Styles of Beyond)

Can't Leave Rap Alone

Yeah…
I’m like a '88 classic, Apathy goes back
To Filas with straps and Don Mattingly throwbacks
I’m back bitch, on some asshole rap shit
Rarely ever seen like Asian dudes with black chicks
You muthafuckas wanna scrap?
Be quiet!
You know when Apathy drops, you happily buy it
All these cats are a riot, wanna rap, so they try it
But’ll quit as quick as Ruben Studdard on the Atkins diet
I ain’t the type to blow scratch on tricks
Slap tricks in the trap if teeth scratch the dick
Chicken’s in the kitchen makin' chicken from scratch and shit
Check it, Chum’s on the track with the scratch and mix
Y’all don’t even understand who you scrappin' with
I got Timbs in the trunk, won’t scratch my kicks
Y’all are brewin' up a plot, tryin' to get Ap to flip?
Do yourself a favor — scratch that shit, cause…
Even though muthafuckas tryin' to see me…
«Can't leave rap alone, the game needs me» [- Jay-Z
The way I think, I make it look easy
«Can't leave rap alone, the game needs me» [- Jay-Z
You got doubts, but please believe me
«Can't leave rap alone, the game needs me» [- Jay-Z
Go ask your mom to cop this CD
«Can't leave rap alone, the game needs me» [- Jay-Z
The Rubix Cuban’s at your door, but I ain’t singin' no carols
I’m like Donkey Kong, I got you niggas dodgin' my barrels
Don’t give a fuck where your label’s from
We runnin' up in your office, holdin' your CEO hostage with a staple gun
And ain’t no stoppin' this don;
I got soccer moms
Puttin' Glocks in their palms and wildin' out to opera songs
Blow off your brim, turn your fitted to a kufi
I’m like Ricky Ricardo except, «I Love Uzis»
When I’m in the crowd, these rappers are shook
They won’t stage dive unless they got a harness with a grapplin' hook
Damn right, my raps are real ill
The Celph Titled talkin' doll says, «Kill, kill»
Oh, you’s a tough guy, sayin' that you brawl in these fights?
But you got your nose broken by a white bitch from a volleyball spike
Old timers ask me where I got my pimp game from
Cause I got 99 bitches and ain’t a problem with one
I’m the one to call when your third verse is free
Slip slugs in a pump and disperse emcees
Six gunner with a potty mouth, spittin' up mud
I stay trippin' with a 40 oz., sippin' them suds
Outta Cali with a bang, bitch!
Fuckin' insane, bitch
The man savin' L.A., forget about Game, bitch
I never claim Crip, but I’ll murder my language
If I can’t handle it quick, I’ll have it arranged then
Last nine summers, you been suckin' the same dick
But Jay’s gone, and I’m still fuckin' 'em brainless
At the Holiday Inn, my Doc Holiday grins
A little too much for one, so I’ll probably get twins
Let the party begin, take it back to the telly
Your body is doper than coke, but your crack is smelly
At the show, they was rippin' all their panties and bras down
They love it, cause officially I’m one of the 'godz now