Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song No Such Thing , by - Apathy. Release date: 09.06.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
No Such Thing |
| Live from the eye of the storm |
| I transform |
| Shoot up the dance floor |
| Make your whores' pants warm |
| This is madness |
| Memoir the thoughts of a savage |
| Who packs automatics in Louis Vuitton baggage |
| I bash shit |
| Bloody a bloody ya whole rap clique |
| And jump outta Jabba the Hutts barge with a back flip |
| Bastion a never ending story on a dragon |
| I’m flying down the block with timbs and pants sagging |
| A catalog that will leave your ghostwriter dead |
| Cause I stay on fire like Ghost Rider’s head |
| Keep the toast by the bed |
| With supplies of meds |
| In a standoff with dreads and wise guys and feds |
| Okay, maybe I just play too much Xbox |
| Clash your competition like Yankees and Red Sox |
| I love when hoes call me big poppa |
| Sticking my dick in ‘em, inflicting 'em with stigmata |
| There’s no such thing, as too much hoes |
| Too much weed, or too much doe |
| Cause all I do is fuck, get high and get mine |
| All I do is fuck, get high and get mine |
| Night stalker |
| Cool as a white walker |
| Might dead the buy bread and slide for the side offer |
| Live author |
| Talk down to ya high enforcer |
| When I die, you tell 'em capture this look in my eye in portraits |
| I rise, my return (is) designed to apply torture |
| To live corpses of the side talkers operated, carnivore |
| With a carnival of monsters I created |
| A king maker who’s regicidal |
| My regimen reckless |
| Unrecognizable, unregistered rifle on blast |
| Catch these clips, the skit’s viral |
| Mind detect Mind, mine detects mines |
| I step aside 'em and |
| Address my rivals |
| I’ll send’em something they can sign for |
| Showing that your rhymes suck |
| Is exactly why I signed up |
| Line 'em up |
| Who the next to get doja’d |
| Get folded |
| I’ll put your heels on the back of your shoulders |
| Boulders, smash skully’s (Scully) like a regular Mulder |
| It’s over. |
| There’s no such thing, as too much hoes |
| Too much weed, or too much doe |
| Cause all I do is fuck, get high and get mine |
| All I do is fuck, get high and get mine |
| Yeah |
| Umbilical cord snapper |
| Giving life to rappers |
| Pounds at the left hand |
| Fuckboys wearing pampers |
| I hop out the hamper like honey I’m home |
| With your favorite robe on and put the crone to her dome |
| Dominican Republic, a presidential debater |
| Drug smuggler cartel the boy motivator |
| Playing raze and tag four corners elevators |
| Selling to him piece on stage, mic slayer |
| Rolling Stone rock star, eight balls, Bloody Marys |
| Bitches powder their nose, giving me head in taxis |
| Welcome to the Nutso show |
| Where fakes get exposed |
| Head chopped off, brain splattered to the front row |
| Call me Nutstigliano |
| I put my stigmata in a big butt stink Italiana |
| Five star amada, until mañana |
| no injections, natural nauticas |
| There’s no such thing, as too much hoes |
| Too much weed, or too much doe |
| Cause all I do is fuck, get high and get mine |
| All I do is fuck, get high and get mine |
| I’m shaking hands with many devils in the industry |
| Devils in the industry |
| Devils in the industry |