| I’m shittin' on crews like I’m eatin' ex-lax and drinkin' prune juice
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| Mad fly like you let a helium balloon loose
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| Other people say I’m feelin' em like a masseuse
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| You’re played out like a bubble goose in lug boots
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| You other crews poppin' all that shit are fuckin' thuggables
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| Talkin' bout you put a slug in whoever would fuck with you
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| That’s nothin' new, bein' hard and tryin' to find the thug in you
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| But you touchin' the mic is through, that’s somethin' for us to do
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| I can’t even feel another rap about some gossip
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| Or Glock clip, a block clique, or how you got the hot shit. |
| Stop it!
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| And all you space prophets in your rockets
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| If you can analyze your optic sockets when you try to rock it
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| You bore me, with your galactical cosmic stories
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| Take a deep breath and come with somethin' hotter for me
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| Fuck sippin' a forty and icin' your shorty’s jewelry
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| Most of y’all are broken and shit, you don’t fool me
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| So-called player, rockin' fake alligator
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| Walkin' through the club, disconnect your cellular and pager
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| You can take a lesson from me on who’s the hottest
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| Who could pull a goddess in five minutes and get her topless
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| My strategy is, «Hello Shorty, my name is Apathy.»
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| Automatically I got her and her friend attackin' me
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| Up in my grill kickin' game and mack at me
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| On the dance floor, one in front and one in back of me
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| I’m not sayin', «I'm the man», well… Yes I am
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| I would even be dope if I drove in a Trans Am
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| With my windows tinted, cheap speakers bumpin' Def Leppard
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| I’m nice when I wreck it, so everybody get down
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| We grab mics and get down
|
| Whether above or underground
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| The new hot sound we get b____?
|
| Respect and love for the sound
|
| We grab mics and get down
|
| Whether above or underground
|
| The new hot sound we get b____?
|
| Respect and love for the sound
|
| I’m the definition of the lyrically trife
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| I spit one rap and fuck your mind up for life
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| Lobotomies are given out free like clinic rubbers
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| But I still bust through and make virgin girls mothers
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| Y’all genuflect more than Monica Lewinski
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| You couldn’t be dope if they quantum leaped you in me
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| On scales of 1 to 10, I’m 20, I crush many
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| I’m that bastard in South Park that keeps killin' Kenny
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| I rip raps backwards on tracks
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| Reverse wax, blows the smack
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| Wack-ass emcees always tryin' to battle me
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| Frontin' like his squad’s favorite emcee ain’t Apathy
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| Nowadays kids are all about Puffy and?
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| Did Hip Hop heads forget about Bam? |
| Zulu!
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| I’m the one to bring it back like stealin' from a store
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| And have your mother catch you out as you walkin' out the door
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| In war I grab the mic to fight and settle scores
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| Kick in the door, waivin' my metaphors
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| Profound like tryin' to break down molecular compounds
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| I’m Apathy the Alien Tongue, so everybody get down
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| Punch n' Words they get down
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| The Jedi Mind Tricks get down
|
| The Equilibrium’s down
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| Wiseguy and Gaston get down
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| 7L and Esoteric get down
|
| The Demigodz got the sound
|
| My man LT will get down
|
| Superfriends they get down
|
| Wild Style crew will get down
|
| Metaphor got the sound
|
| The Mountain Brothers they get down
|
| Rakim Allah holds the crown
|
| My man Dark? |
| is down
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| Eternia got the sound
|
| Mr. Mayday gets down |