[Chorus: Apocalipps] Bang this out, this is that shit right here That get you crunk, when you bout to flip out Aiyo, watch your mouth, you shouldn't have left that out Now I know you soft, set that out Tell 'em how it's going down, Apocalipps is back Ya'll can't live, I'm bout to shut this down You better hold your ground, man, and I don't care where you from Or who you roll with, bust your pound All my niggas turn it up, all my bitches turn it up My niggas get it crunk, come on, get it crunk
[Apocalipps] Ya'll wanna get fly? And try to test Lipps, why? Fall the fuck back, and bump your fucking head 'fore you die I got the flow cracking, niggas don't try me, they know I'm packing The silver and black chrome, to match my Bo Jacksons Ya'll know what's happening, it's Mr. Staten, himself Apocalipps, I got my weight up, now I'm snatching your belt Man, ya'll rap sheet consist a song with Nas and Jigga My rap sheet consist of crack sales and robbing niggas Aight, let's do the math, both of your mans, plus, you his ass Equals rob you, kill you, leave you dead broke with no cash Hand on my gun, let the kid expand with his lungs You talk like you got a little gangsta man on your tongue And I ain't gonna bang on wax, you should know who you messing with My gun got star 69, and it take messages I'm like a psychic, and I see you and your sidekick Two wack rappers running round try'nna spit my shit I see your future, I see your name on the shelf And Miss Cleo'll tell your stupid you playing yourself My last battle was a good one, one got fronted Until he heard I had more hot lines than 1-900 Apocalipps, listen for real, and listen you'll get it The first bar is free, a dollar each additional minute Now here's a message if you bootleg, man, you'll troops'll be dead All they gon' find is your boots and your legs
[Chorus]
[Apocalipps] I'm finally here, my niggas, the curse is gone All my carpets, grab them dispursed deforms All my niggas wilding out, in the cells and the dorms Apocalipps is home, that's what ya'll niggas thirst for so long It's like just yesterday, I was spinning the yard But now I'm doing doughnuts, 360's, spinning they cars Cinnamon Dodge, rocking thin linen with scarves Hoes is tricking, buying trees, I got them spinning the yard We hitting you hard, like Roy, and that nigga hit hard Double edge rap, I cut your rhyme book, and leave it scarred Second to none, I hit you in the neck with this gun And stomp your Adam's apple out for disrespecting my slums You fucking crazy, I play with these tracks like toys Your wax destroyed, revolver rap, clap your boys My mentally? They just let me out of the box I let my bubble gum pop and blow you out of your socks You new to this boss, I thought I told your ass before I put the city on pause, grab New York by the balls
[Chorus 2X] Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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