Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Stop What Ya Doin'-1, artist - Apathy. Album song Stop What Ya Doin' (Prod. By DJ Premier), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 07.08.2007
Record label: Demigodz Enterprises
Song language: English
Stop What Ya Doin'-1 |
Good evening |
I wanna take this time to introduce Apathy, featuring Celph Titled |
We’re gonna get rough, rugged and raw for a minute |
Oh, who me? |
I go by the name of DJ Premier |
So I guess we should do what we do, when we do what we do, aight? |
Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin |
The image and the style that you’re used to |
Cause I’m about to ruin |
The image and the style that you’re used to |
I got an appetite for destruction, Ap is back |
Murder beats, get hoes, there’s an app for that |
Grab the battle axe, jacked X-Clan's pink Cadillac |
(Sissy!) I’m a Garbage Pail Kid doing the Cabbage Patch |
Play chief, get shot with a stray arrow |
You suckers imitate more rappers than Jay Pharoah |
Rocking gay apparel, them jeans’ll make you sterile |
I’m steady stocking that ammo and cockin' the double barrel |
Rock a show hard as an army of Viking warriors |
Storming your little village then pillage 'til we victorious |
Stories of us painted on the walls of caves |
An image of your bitch sucking on my balls for days |
I’m like Genghis Khan on the back of a horse |
Or Billy Joel with a bottle of Jack on the dash of the Porsche |
Blast with a force of Soviet Rockets and cold wars |
You’re on tour bagging whores with cold sores |
Do the wisdom, fuck bitches to the rhythm |
I’m hard as nuclear fission, a student of pugilism |
Which means Ap’ll knock your motherfucking head off |
I’m logical like Spock, drink vodka like Checkov |
Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin |
The image and the style that you’re used to |
Cause I’m about to ruin |
The image and the style that you’re used to |
Pirate mentality, teeth holding a knife in place |
Meet me on a rap tour and a raptor might bite your face |
And what would happen is you’ll get shipped out in packages |
Thank God I keep the meat tenderizer in my cabinet |
But truthfully (what?) My vision varies |
I go from a visionary to a vicious leader of killer militaries |
Using old machine guns, why need better gats? |
These’ll still burn holes in motherfuckers like a treasure map (Blat!) |
Think that Celph’s soft, and I’mma just stare at y’all |
Cause I’m Cyclops, and yes the sunglasses are off |
So get a bulletproof armor suit and chin guard |
Army surplus galore, I’m throwing more than ten darts (Yeah) |
My prestige is presidential |
I’m prevalent when you pressing the pressure, preppy, I’m prepping my pistol |
I’ll cast a pyramid hex |
That leave you dickheads covered in blood like period sex |
Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin |
The image and the style that you’re used to |
Cause I’m about to ruin |
The image and the style that you’re used to |
I break through all barriers trust Ap’ll bury ya |
Nowadays rappers sound like Cartoon characters (Hilarious) |
Raps I write cover an area with paragraphs |
Are larger than aircraft carriers |
Swearing yeah my middle finger express my hand gesture (Fuck you) |
You a she-man dressed in a dress like Fran Drescher |
Cro-Magnon with a crowbar, might eat you |
Pro with a Magnum, keep you in check like Nike sneakers |
I’m white as wife beaters on white trash on cop shows |
Selling stolen Picassos in front of Costco’s |
This is the Demigodz gospel: unholy and hostile |
Acidic apocalyptic apostles |
Pop those snot-nosed thugs who act |
Mail-order a gun and they afraid to pop the bubble wrap |
My gun powder’s dusting 'em, my guns and them is troublesome |
My Glock alone is like a foster home 'cause I be sonning them |
Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin |
The image and the style that you’re used to |
Cause I’m about to ruin |
The image and the style that you’re used to |