[Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory sample] Oompa Loompa, doompadah dee If you are wise you'll listen to me Oompa Loompa, doompadee doo I've got another puzzle for you You will live in happiness too Like the Oompa Loompa doompadee do, doompadee do Oompa Loompa doompadee do, doompadee do Oompa Loompa doompadee do
[Intro: Apocalipps] Uh-huh, uh-huh, what? I got the chocolate! Come on... yeah, let's go Come on... yo
[Apocalipps] Yo, if your razor's broke, and your gat wont spin Then you gon' have to put some Barry Bonds back work in Or the big dagger, rock'n roll, the Mick Jagger Unless you got a dead arm punch like Marv Haggler Yup, it's Apocalipps, I'm up in the building Alright, this rhyme here may not be suitable for children I used to stash crack in the benches Now you can catch me backstage, weeded, givin your favorite rapper the business And if you gonna cop weight, make sure to cop heavy And if I'm rhyming on air, if you're smart your have your tapes ready Besides that I'm on the block heavy But I suplex your little record label like Brock Lesnar I had to step it up from the techs and pop desy's Nigga, stop smoking that wet, and cop berry The blackberry's in effect, I can't fuck with the cellies I catch your ass on the boat, I throw you off the Ferry I got a bad posture, but my flow is proper Niggas be knowin, Jesse Owens style, I run through your roster Long dreadlocks, smoke pot, but I'm not a rasta Lead's hot, red dot, I can spot an imposter I'm like a octopus, cause I got extra arms Ruthless, I give a fuck, nigga, I stretch your moms, what!
[Chorus: Apocalipps] God damn, why you say that, fam? Cause the fire I spit, burn down happyland Apocalipps, why you thrash me and my mans? Nigga, the fire I spit, burn down happyland Shit, losing that battle wasn't part of the plan Cause the fire I spit, burn down happyland
[Apocalipps] Yo, watch how I ride on this beat with no bike Automatic weapon in the hooptie, got no lights I rap too much, people say I rap a lot, check it Scar on my Face, so I should sign to Rap-A-Lot records I came from the, pits in the cells, to the strips making cells If that nigga is hot, then Lipps is hell And I ain't got no time to teach all you MCs grammar So many guns, my name should be MC Hammer A lotta bitches say a nigga look like Busta Rhymes Nah, I'm his cousin, bitch, Bust-a-Nine I got the master key to this game, now watch me lock it And you don't have to have on pants, for me to play you out your pockets Now what, kid, do what you want, and get your crew amped Apocalipps, I'm known to lick shots, y'all niggas lick stamps Fuck you and yours, my round of applaud will get you clapped up Ya niggas is SSA, ass backwards, whaaat! I do you dirty like the sewers I smash "Mike's" like Evander, Buster and Lennox Lewis
[Chorus] Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa. |
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