I’ll hand you a gat, you still couldn’t murder this track I’m certain of that, when I attack I work with a map
Putting circles and tax details with pertinent facts, to search for the whack
Don’t even need the burners to clap I’m so hot, it’s like somebody taught a furnace to rap You better dead all of that crap that you’re working with Ap Saying you got signed to the Rock when conversing with cats You ain’t even a label intern, you work in the back And pack boxes for customers that purchase my wax How dare you say you’re probably the next to go big You’ve never ever had a fan like an Eskimo’s crib I’m a super human, doing what these average cats can’t Skinny as a kid, but got sent to a phat camp What’s the odds you can defeat me when rocking these mics? You probably have a better chance hitting the lottery twice My game is air-tight I can dick – down dikes I’m the flyest thing that’s white since Uptown Nikes Wanna joke around trying to diss, thinking it’s fresh I’ll beat you till your link’s imbedded an inch in ya chest Better bow down to Caesar, no body’s iller than Apathy Beings from different galaxies are naming children after me Side walks crack when I’m steppin’ on the street I ain’t standin’ on the planet, it’s resting on my feet The pimp, player, the hustler rolled into one Breathing air into my lunges is like loading a gun Fuck around and ya’ll have bigger problems Than dressing up as Osama And trying to rush the President while he’s joggin’ I don’t even understand why you bother rocking the beats You would have been better off as a stain on your father’s sheets Ap is the king, rocking royal jewels that’ll blind you UFO’s couldn’t illuminate like the lines do
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