Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Doe Raker Check, artist - Apathy.
Date of issue: 20.03.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Doe Raker Check |
My Nikes are real white, check one |
My Nikes are real white, check two |
I’m a bastard that’ll master ways to massacre the masses |
Like a massive meteor that smash your cities into ashes |
I’ll bash these lil' faggots 'til your face is facin backwards |
Wait for you, I’m takin you to quiet places in the backwoods |
Where a whole thuggers, sluggers waitin very patiently |
They travel through the chamber of the banger very gracefully |
And dance through your cranium, tangle with your brain stem |
Salsa with your cerebellum, quickly rearrange them |
Exit through your earholes, firin projectiles |
My bullets are accumulatin frequent flyer miles |
I’m Doe Rakin, cakin off multiple enterprisin businesses |
With weight up in the rental keepin enterprisin business kid |
Analyzin every possibility like physicists |
My fist’ll fracture faces faster than pistols that spit at this |
The proof’s when the album drop, crew on the alpha lot |
But Ap up on the mic is like Zeus on the mountaintop |
Lightning for a mic exploder, most them rappers' lifes are over |
Fight provoker, wifey stroker, rare exotic Nike owner |
Voodoo speaker, speaker blower, blow your momma, mind’ll blow ya |
Brain it’s all the same if you take it back and rewind it over |
Overtime, score tied, seconds are tickin |
For recognition I be spittin 'til the records is skippin |
Respect the clique and everything’ll be cool |
Y’all better check if it’s cool |
I’ll just eject the feul in your record pool |
+ (Apathy) |
We some Doe Rakers, we some soul takers |
But, all we tryin to do is get mo' paper |
We some Doe Rakers, we some ho takers |
Whole clique flow sick, ain’t no fakers |
(My Nikes are real white, check one) You know? |
(My Nikes are real white, check two) Geah! |
(Check one, check two, check one-two) You know? |
(Check one, check two, check one-two) Geah! |
Yo, yo if you heard of Doe Rakers then you already know |
I roll with a clique, that persists to flip that dough |
See while you’re at school tryin to play that tic-tac-toe |
I was with your lil' sis, findin how to hit that ho |
Let me talk to all these niggas wanna get at Mo' |
No warnin, your peeps mournin cause they miss you so |
A clown nigga, lay down like six feet low |
Cause y’all thought it was just a game when you spit that flow |
No! |
Not on a throne yet, but I’m a known threat |
Plus I’m known for puttin somethin in pussies like Kotex |
I’m on some CEO shit, yeah your man’s a boss |
Kids sayin he’s a myth like Santa Claus |
I got the, tools to provide with |
Either you ride or collide with my clique or choose a side to hide with |
Motive the live that’s paid my dues, won’t settle for shit |
Nuttin to prove, none of these dudes on the level I spit |
Shit’s funny, I’m 'bout money but a beast on tracks |
So watch y’all mouth, when y’all speak on wax |
Cause beef with Ap, nigga then them heats gon' clap |
Believe the facts cause I’ll greet your whole, team with gats |
Give a fuck, if you old school rap or new crews |
They don’t spit sick, that’s shit! |
You’re doo-doo |
Fuck all the talk son, the actin is done |
Come to your show, after you flow only thing clappin is guns |
Yo, this the hot shit kid |
It’s your boy Big Hoot |
A.M.E., Demigodz |
We controllin it right now |
Apathy smackin motherfuckers up |
And that Motive, bangin you out |
Emilio, knockin you out |
D.R. |
nigga, what? |
What nigga? |
Fuck you bitch! |