| Yo, yo, what’s up man, yo I love your shit!
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| I got all your shits, yo
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| Yo yo, can I get an autograph? |
| Can I get some-
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| Yo I got all your vinyl pieces! |
| I got all the vinyls
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| I got the one the new one, the Boom-Bap (oh word)
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| Yo, yo, yo Apathy yo, yo please man, kick a freestyle!
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| I’m sayin' yo, off the dome!
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| I got little kids sittin' in class fiddlin
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| Didn’t take they Ritalin, Apathetic rolls more than Michelin
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| Whenever the clips start clickin' and
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| I stab motherfuckers like they’re swordfishin' and they fell out the boat
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| (Ahhhh!)
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| But the fell inside of a moat filled with crocodiles
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| When I rock the style got the hottest style
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| Come off the head and blast like lead projectiles
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| Ya not safe in ya neighborhood like I’m a pedophile
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| With a van of a man, I kill all of my fans 'cause I’m paranoid
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| And think that they might turn into a Stan
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| (Jesus Christ!) Shut up, you’re makin' my ears hurt
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| You’d probably sell your little sister for an Apathy T-shirt (it's true!)
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| I’ll crack ya trachea like Dracula in Castlevania
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| Body slam, crack ya back like Wrestlemania (ohh!)
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| You’re just poor white trash with a Charles Bronson mustache (haa!)
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| I’ll beat your ass and take your bus-pass
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| I’m that bully at lunch that’ll snatch ya cash
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| To avoid my wrath you’d probably cut class (yeah)
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| You’re the type to fuck an ugly bitch and bust fast
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| I’ll leave you gaspin' like you ate Anthrax and mustard gas (ahh!)
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| Word up son, I’m battlin' forces
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| I’m made from the best stuff on Earth, a rapper Snapple endorses
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| And even for little weird kids
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| I still find time to throw a root beer in their fridge
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| Yo yo Apathy that was so fuckin' dope!
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| I love it! |
| (aww man) Yo yo yo yo encore, kick another one
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| (Yo, yo man hold up, I gotta be out man
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| But I think my man Louis Logic right here can help you out)
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| Ah-ah-ah… Lou? |
| Louis Logic?
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| Jesus! |
| Oh! |
| Factotum!
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| I drank my first beer, listenin' to Factotum!
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| {Yo I’m kinda hemmed up right now, but you know what
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| I could kick a free for you, hold up}
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| Yeah that’s what I’m talkin' about! |
| Spit it! |
| Spit it!
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| Be aware that I’m in need of a beer (I love it!)
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| You motherfuckers got a full pack of Squares?
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| I’mma steal that too, and smash you in the fuckin' face
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| With a big piece of Chinese bamboo (hahaha!)
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| I’m Logical, I’m the comical one
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| I could kick you right in your abdominal, son (whoa!)
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| And I leave you on the run from the cops, and the feds
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| For tryin' to fuck around with any rhyme that I said (ahh!)
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| You’re a biter, I’ll strike you with a brand new lighter
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| And smash ya fuckin' face with the claws of a tiger
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| I’d outwrite ya, and outshine ya (kick it!)
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| And take your wife out and wine and dine her (oh-hoo!)
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| But I don’t need to do that to get the pussy
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| Because I know her legs are bushy, and I ain’t tryna fuck her (ohh!)
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| I’ll stuff a fuckin' trucker in a duffel bag
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| Then I’ll snuff his ass, fuckin' fag! |
| You should know better (ooh!)
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| 'Cause Louis Logical’ll put you in a nightclub sweater
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| I would fuck you up, but I like hoes better (ah-ha!)
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| You better escape before I’m settin' the date
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| To desicrate your face and leave you in a resting place (ah-ha!)
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| So let’s just say that I’m the man of the hour
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| With an unbelievable power to put a golden shower
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| Right over ya dome
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| And have every motherfucker I don’t like pissed off, while I’m soakin' ya
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| clothes (I LOVE YOU!)
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| Ahaha! |
| Ah bravo bravo! |
| (Thank you, thank you haha)
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| I love you! |
| I love you! |
| Louis?
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| Lou? |
| Can I call you Lou? |
| (Call me shithead, dude) I LOVE YOU!
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| That was… you’re a star! |
| That was the best! |
| FUCKIN' JESUS!
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| (Ohh boy this kid.)
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| These are the best freestyles I’ve ever heard in my life!
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| (Yo, man you think that was some shit man?)
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| (Snoozy motherfuckers 'bout to find out, check out my man Celph Titled
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| Yo, spit that shit…) AHHHHHHH!
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| Celph Titled never freestyles? |
| Fuck that! |
| (ah!)
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| I’d rather put a gun to your back, nigga, fuck rap! |
| (ooh!)
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| Crucify you to the wall with a thousand thumb tacks
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| You dumb cats are dumb wack, here’s your fuckin' tongue back!
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| I should spray you for lookin' as gay as you do
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| You look like a fuckin' surfer I hate you (oh Jesus!) |
| I’ll hanglide into your ride and slice ya throat
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| Wrap your dead body up in a Cardigan coat (oh my God!)
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| Shout out to Majik Most, I been dope since I first met him
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| And that was back in 1910
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| I shine like flashes from Kodak reflectin' off of Kojak’s head
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| I’ll leave you wet like Bill Clinton’s face (ah!)
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| Fuck Dan Quayle, I’ll go quail huntin'
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| And shoot you in the face for frontin' (Jesus!)
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| So go get your orange vest, I’ll punch ya head off ya chest
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| Molest your mom while you off in a gay prom wearin' a cumberbund
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| I’m the thunderous one, Celph Titled ain’t a nigga seein' me son
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| You couldn’t kick verses if you played soccer, with a Bible
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| I’m so vital I’ll play your vital organs at church
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| This is the last time I let 'em come off the dome, so search
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| On the internet and find 800 different records with my name on it
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| (Jesus no!) You’re a faggot wearing a bonnet with a rainbow on it
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| I’m the Don, I’m the king, I’m numero uno
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| I’ll televise your execution on telemundo
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| AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
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| Apathy! |
| Louis Logic! |
| and Celph Titled!
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| Ahh! |
| The Demigodz! |