Отсутствует (исполнитель: Неизвестен)
[Verse 1: Apathy] I could talk [bad word] out of they jeans Gold diggers out of they cream Little wannabe rap [bad word] out of they dreams I'm slick, I could talk a hustler out of his fiends I rap so hot, the water in my spit [bad word] steam I'm like a pound of uncut coke when hittin' the scene Y'all are powder particles that trickled off the triple beam Stop trippin', little chicken, I ain't payin', I'm pimpin' If ya waitin' for trickin' then you should date a magician Wake up and listen, and keep this in the back of your mind My thoughts are heavy, the weight alone could fracture your spine Cats swear to God they high, hearin' Apathy's rhymes And hold a torch up to trees like the back of a dime These little backpack [bad word] probably jacked my lines But like divorce with no prenup, half of it's mine Y'all are just [bad word] (Esoterodactyl got morgues to fill) While Ap's on a mission to make green like chlorophyll [Verse 2: Esoteric] My team drops bread like chicks on health kicks Ya squad could rock Bird throwbacks and couldn't "sell ticks" I melt [bad word] with the words I spit Steven King, disturbed and sick You know Shay's killin' rappers that be speakin' on their dealin' coke days Only birds you ever flipped was due to road rage Only gray you ever pushed was due to old age Bomb grower? Nah dude, the only weed you ever moved was with lawn mowers You ain't traffickin' [bad word] No package in the back of the whip No gats, no clips, why you rockin' that watch still? Only archeologists check for iced-out Fossils Is this a vintage affair? Them Jordans isn't that rare Plus they so dingy they resemble my original pair Servin' AotP? That'd be a head trip Like a Cali-bred Crip rockin' Cincinnatti Reds [bad word] (scratched) (x2) Y'all tryin' to put a crease in the cards Everybody want a piece of the gods [Verse 3: Planetary] I spit spontaneously, insane on a beat Gigantic with the rap, I throw a flame in the street Nothin' less than a professor manifestin' the heat So hot, I don't even bring a piece when I beef Rappers shot, make your casket drop Pass the block, and get your [bad word] beat down, we laugh and watch And it's funny how we throw [bad word] band on a knot Smack you in the face with it and let you have it to shop And the reason that you bleedin', you disrespected a demon Cryin' like little [bad word] or newborns that's teething We urban gorillas workin' with killers Bow and arrows from the Pharaohs, dog you heard what the deal is We the realest and you feel us cause you probably been through it Suicidal rap, [bad word] cut your skin to it And [bad word] don't matter if you die or live through it We beat you 'till you [bad word] bluish, hit you with sick fluid [Verse 4: Des Devious] I never aim to please, get cut quick, gone with the breeze And post up, sparkin' my trees Like it never happened, the captain of fly rappin' Attackin' with war tactics and write it down in fine graphics Cause havoc, my "mobb's deep," gun butt, you now sleep Your funeral be in a week, I dare you to creep Pack ridiculous heat from sweepin' the streets The tech nine to your meat, chopper bringin' defeat To any one who oppose these [bad word] #39; murderous flows I'm standin' here close from breakin' your nose The life that you chose is nothin', why [bad word] #39;? Shoot, I'm gunnin', my [bad word] #39; cold deeds is headhuntin' Frontin' is a waste of time, you get money and shine On your grind, it's all in your mind Cause I've never seen you holdin' a spot, callin' a shot Pops scorchin' your flesh, you bleedin' to death Heed these words or meet this bird, Desert Bangin' at your heartless herbs, heartless herbs, [bad word]