| Good evening
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| I wanna take this time to introduce Apathy, featuring Celph Titled
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| We’re gonna get rough, rugged and raw for a minute
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| Oh, who me? |
| I go by the name of DJ Premier
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| So I guess we should do what we do, when we do what we do, aight?
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| Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin
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| The image and the style that you’re used to
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| Cause I’m about to ruin
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| The image and the style that you’re used to
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| I got an appetite for destruction, Ap is back
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| Murder beats, get hoes, there’s an app for that
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| Grab the battle axe, jacked X-Clan's pink Cadillac
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| (Sissy!) I’m a Garbage Pail Kid doing the Cabbage Patch
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| Play chief, get shot with a stray arrow
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| You suckers imitate more rappers than Jay Pharoah
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| Rocking gay apparel, them jeans’ll make you sterile
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| I’m steady stocking that ammo and cockin' the double barrel
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| Rock a show hard as an army of Viking warriors
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| Storming your little village then pillage 'til we victorious
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| Stories of us painted on the walls of caves
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| An image of your bitch sucking on my balls for days
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| I’m like Genghis Khan on the back of a horse
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| Or Billy Joel with a bottle of Jack on the dash of the Porsche
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| Blast with a force of Soviet Rockets and cold wars
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| You’re on tour bagging whores with cold sores
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| Do the wisdom, fuck bitches to the rhythm
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| I’m hard as nuclear fission, a student of pugilism
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| Which means Ap’ll knock your motherfucking head off
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| I’m logical like Spock, drink vodka like Checkov
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| Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin
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| The image and the style that you’re used to
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| Cause I’m about to ruin
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| The image and the style that you’re used to
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| Pirate mentality, teeth holding a knife in place
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| Meet me on a rap tour and a raptor might bite your face
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| And what would happen is you’ll get shipped out in packages
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| Thank God I keep the meat tenderizer in my cabinet
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| But truthfully (what?) My vision varies
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| I go from a visionary to a vicious leader of killer militaries
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| Using old machine guns, why need better gats?
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| These’ll still burn holes in motherfuckers like a treasure map (Blat!)
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| Think that Celph’s soft, and I’mma just stare at y’all
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| Cause I’m Cyclops, and yes the sunglasses are off
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| So get a bulletproof armor suit and chin guard
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| Army surplus galore, I’m throwing more than ten darts (Yeah)
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| My prestige is presidential
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| I’m prevalent when you pressing the pressure, preppy, I’m prepping my pistol
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| I’ll cast a pyramid hex
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| That leave you dickheads covered in blood like period sex
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| Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin
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| The image and the style that you’re used to
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| Cause I’m about to ruin
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| The image and the style that you’re used to
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| I break through all barriers trust Ap’ll bury ya
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| Nowadays rappers sound like Cartoon characters (Hilarious)
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| Raps I write cover an area with paragraphs
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| Are larger than aircraft carriers
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| Swearing yeah my middle finger express my hand gesture (Fuck you)
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| You a she-man dressed in a dress like Fran Drescher
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| Cro-Magnon with a crowbar, might eat you
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| Pro with a Magnum, keep you in check like Nike sneakers
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| I’m white as wife beaters on white trash on cop shows
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| Selling stolen Picassos in front of Costco’s
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| This is the Demigodz gospel: unholy and hostile
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| Acidic apocalyptic apostles
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| Pop those snot-nosed thugs who act
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| Mail-order a gun and they afraid to pop the bubble wrap
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| My gun powder’s dusting 'em, my guns and them is troublesome
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| My Glock alone is like a foster home 'cause I be sonning them
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| Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin
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| The image and the style that you’re used to
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| Cause I’m about to ruin
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| The image and the style that you’re used to |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Stop What Ya Doin', artist - Apathy. Album song Stop What Ya Doin' (Prod. By DJ Premier), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп