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(Uh! Yeah!) Connecticut! |
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(Uh! A... P!) Apathy! |
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(Demigodz!) Yup, uh! |
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(Doe Rakers) 'course... |
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Yo... |
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Yo I ain't afraid of shit, I don't even pretend |
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I be flippin' God off through his microscope lens |
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This asshole supreme and his violent friends |
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Closest we came to peace signs is drivin' a Benz |
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This is hip-hop that overloads amps and speaker boxes |
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For muthafuckas' rooms that cluttered with sneaker boxes |
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Tongue ring bitches who be sneakin' our oxes |
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In the club where security decreases the options |
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'Cause Ap is like William Blake, but filled with hate |
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Who broke open his brain to let the skills escape |
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It's like silicon tits to porno chicks |
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I could flow on 'till Voltron's torso splits |
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I supply, multiply like Gordo's chips |
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I'm a He-Man, and y'all are on some Orko shit |
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Gold BBS rims on a Saab with the stop sign |
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'87 status radio show dock nine |
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Connecticut veteran, better than ever before |
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Handprints embedded in metal of mics I tore |
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In half with half a paragraph, skin grafts needed |
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It's equivalent to starin' in the sun when tryin' to read it |
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Y'all wanna get defeated, that's a personal decision |
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But I'm cuttin' muthafuckas up with surgical precision |
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A legend in the making, the last of a dyin' breed |
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Y'all are newjacks, probably get shook when buyin' weed |
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You're MySpace gangstas, with guns in pictures |
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I'll slap your face and tongue fuck your sisters |
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For this next one, you gotta be sharp so listen: |
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I'll hit you in the head like turbulence when you pissin' (Phenomenal!) |
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Cash I stack's astronomical |
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Nikes and pricey Pisces astrological |
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Ap's wifey's a fat ass Aphrodite |
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That badass bastard that spaz out like hyphey |
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Hand out like Heisman Trophies |
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Approach me and your homies are pourin' out fo'-ties of OE |
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I'm playin \"Time's Up\" by O.C |
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Sellin O-Z's and O-C's to kids in the OC |
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Hate authority from P.O.'s to C.O.'s |
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'Cause we know, we see those, and we ain't seein' no dough |
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So play the low, slow it down, make paper, through it around |
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I'ma have a lot of fun before I go underground |
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'Fore my spirit speeds through space and punctures the sun |
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I'll be keepin' heaven 'fore a muthafucker should run |
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I ain't frontin' like I'm runnin' 'round with hundreds of guns |
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But just watch, got an ox hidden under my tongue, son |
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MTV just got Sucker Free Sundays |
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I'm sucker free 365, not one day |
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You average little cornball phony ho model |
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Y'all ain't think, you're more like a Rosie O'Donnell |
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I'm dyin' for rappers to stop glorifyin' diamonds |
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'Cause wannabes are rhymin' 'bout 'em when they never buy 'em |
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Dude's swear they poppin' but the labels never sign 'em |
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It appears that materialism is what defines 'em |
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Let's fast forward ten years to see where we find 'em |
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It's hard to focus vision when them hater blockers blind 'em |
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It's hard to disagree when they know that I'm right |
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Don't know what it's like? I stick it in your sister every night |
