Lyrics I Gotcha Back - Franc Grams, Apathy

I Gotcha Back - Franc Grams, Apathy
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I Gotcha Back, artist - Franc GramsAlbum song The Black Lodge, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 29.06.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Dirty Version
Song language: English

I Gotcha Back

I gotcha back but you’se best to watch your front
Cause it’s the brothers that front they be on the hunt
They criticize my moves, but copy my steps
They wanna be me, but won’t acknowledge my breaths
They’ll never come close.
no, not in my death
I’m ten steps ahead of the shit they plot next
Changing the game, audibles
Major pain, for those all opposed
Slaughter all em, or the most
I’m holocaustin all they flows
These nigga outta know, if Franc say it belong it quotes
Cause everything B Major, I never change up organ notes
Slaying all that approaches, hanging 'em all from throats n
Lyrically watch em cough and choke, the shit I wrote is potent
It’s sorta bogus, I’ll take they coffins and throw it
The villin, then get to killin the newbie that feels heroi
Ya’ll couldn’t keep up wit the mind of this guy, I
Would advise, while you might try, to reside on my side, why?
You would hate to be on the wrong team, as that long lead
Climbs mighty high, and the 1 with the loss leaves, please
First me, no I ain’t new Hova, smooth flower
Move over, get moved or get moved over
Hold up, I shut it down, work hard and abuse quotas
These other niggas ain’t got a shot, they too sober
Roll up, I used to pass piff and double ends
Then I moved the crack, had me bubbling
The Stacks-what-was-comin-in
Fire on deck, they would get blasted and come again
I just played the block like a bad bitch’s ugly friend
And now it’s raps that I’m hustling
Feds’ll probably throw me in the bing for the tracks I be smuggling
Each bar a ball, 16 two O’s
All my grindin niggas do the math, niggas too slow, oh
Was known by the fiends, for coke that I re’d
In O’s for cheese, never was I known for the keys
Or known by the D’s, was smooth I just sold for my needs
Got the bills paid, stayed fly and roamed as I please
Studio session, shuttin down the dopiest emcees
Flow is just mean, not a nigga close in his dreams
I keep it real, I don’t fabricate shit
While these rappers make everything
Like bitches with low self esteem, sheesh
My ways leave me in a better state, never break
If that fraud shit killed, y’all niggas would never waste
Spending cake on these bitches
Please, I don’t set up dates
I just get these hoes home cheap, me?
I’m section 8
Ay look, Apathy, it’s sad to see, half of the these
Wack emcees, act like they spazzing each track that they rap that trash I be
Actually laughing
Assassinate em happily, track or battles, ain’t half of me
A match for me?
I’d have to see
You better hope for the best but prepare for the worst
So prepare for my verse to come tearing through Earth
Like an asteroid, bigger than the moon
Black hole, vacuum, robotic, bionic baboon
Black mask on my face, raccoon, bank robber steez
Slang meth like a message from Mephistopheles
My isosceles pyramid contains remains of the pharaohs
Marrow and veins, their golden chains, spaceships and thangs
Hooks on their nose that’ll extract they brains
Better run and hide, motherfuckers get mummified
Put out in the sun and dried and over a dozen died
Constructing a tomb, met destruction and doom
Resurrected in the semen and get sucked in the womb
Like a cycle it’s forever it’s the Alpha Omega
I’m a warrior, war with me and get scalped for your feather
Got a scout on the mountain
That sends a signal to thousands of warriors
That are shouting louder than coyotes howling
Gauging eyes and disemboweling, fountains of blood spouting
Denouncing your gods, decapitated head bouncing
Douse 'em with gas, I’ll light a match while I’m lounging
Upon the couch while you’re crouching
Inside the corner just cowering
Nothing foul as a stench of the wench serving the ale
I’m on a search for the Grail, I’ll leave these serpents impaled
My dick inside a pussy resembles the birth of a whale
My verse’s land me in jail
I’ll sell a verse for the bail
I’ll reverse with the tail, spinning while I’m spitting out hail
Like I’m Jack Frost, I’ll jack off on your female
You better back off or blast off rockets like Soviets
Assassinate your bitch ass and all your associates
Even the sharks will get shook when Ap’s circling
My rap’s perfect, I chop pussies, I’m ax murdering
I’m evil as Hitchcock whenever the fifth cocked
So faggots trying to say they hip hop better kick rocks
I’m bagging up grams so my brother Grams
(What other Grams?)
Ain’t no other Grams, just a bunch of fucking holograms
I gotcha back

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Artist lyrics: Apathy