[Chorus: Apocalipps] Know your role, everybody's got a part to play Know your role, pick yours and you could start today Know your role, before you front your character gotta fit Know your role, just be for real and stop acting and shit Know your role, believe me, even tough guys get hit Know your role, if you're a thug you better study your script Know your role, you're only thorough when the camera is on Know your role, you'se a corn, stop tryin to perform
[Apocalipps] Yo, I'm a Bastard, recognize one when you see one Niggas heard my album, killed they moms and pops just to be one It's fucked up, cause you could get your eardrums busted You listen to a lot of rap and you can suffer concussions And as you enter coma cause you got beat up by the bullshit Like the rapper who killed five niggas with one bullet It's all bullshit, and once they spit a bar you can smell it Like that ki of dope you got, where the fuck you gonna sell it How you back it up, where ya chemist? No you don't cook it Niggas be straight from Farm County but they say they from Brooklyn And you fake ballers kill me with your ice, but I'm colder Ice this and ice that, but yet Jacob's don't know ya Prison ain't fun, don't say you been there when you wasn't The only time you went to jail is when you visit your cousins Your fake image won't sell, the real know you ain't hot Yo, I ain't gotta lie, shit, I tell your ass what I got I got a thousand rhymes, 800 lines of pure venom Green like slime, nasty lucky shit, so I spit 'em And niggas know me, I ain't never have a Lex or a Beem' I had a mountainbike and I used that shit to chase fiends Yo, I never copped a ki, I carry cracks in my ass I go uptown and do my thing and cop a ounce and a half I got a fam which consists no brothers, two sisters Got kicked out of kindergarten, grabbed my dick in a picture I got a ugly broad, but I love her, cause she don't lie I got an attitude when I got denied SSI I got beef, normal shit, nothing you can't prevent I'm not a dummy, but I got what you call common sense I got a wild clique that rock coke rap, the art of war, math That kick the drawer fast, and bring the drama to your soft ass Yeah, I got something, else but I ain't gonna say it And I know my role, know your's, now play it
[Chorus]
[Apocalipps] Aiyo, I'm here to make a dollar out a penny But I got a weed habit, I love pussy and I'm addicted to Henny I got a gun fetish, man, just pass me a glock and your ass'll be hoppin And please don't ask me 'what's poppin?' Cause that's a stupid question, easy answer it's the Smith & Wesson But I ain't talkin' bout the Cocoa Brovaz, it's the Smith & Wesson that can smoke ya'll brothers El loco, motherfucker, your games is ass I rock a green bandana, cause I bang for cash Ya'll slang is trash, I got big things that blast And I'm quick to flip back that big thing that spaz You can't see me in this rap shit, that's a reality My pen is arrogant, it got it's own personality Cause it can talk, think, drink and smoke haze And everytime it write a ill bar, he hit on the page Pockets is plush, lyrically I stop and I bust Shots will literally drop the fuckin top of your trunk I'm tryin to spit until you're all gone I'm hotter than the nigga standin on the sun with a shirt and a pair of long john Cheerleaders get your pom-poms and scream 'go Lipps' I'm like a nigga without a whip, nothing to flow with, nothing to ride with And I'm nothin to drive crazy, and I rap like a single father raisin five babies Smell me, if not then put some Vick's on your chest Cause I can aim with my revolver, all six in your chest
[Chorus] Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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