Apathy,O.C. — No More Soft Shit
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Текст Apathy,O.C. — No More Soft Shit
In the basement where mold grows on my old records
My veins get injected, leave the studio in wreckage
Bruce Banner bustin’ out the booth with the Gamma rays
Fuck ya girlfriend in the face and feed her mayonnaise
Raps blastin’ that Apathy craft
Got ya black boom box bleedin’ battery acid
Wack bastard, I’ll backdraft dragon flame breath
Draggin’ lames to they death, ain’t a particle left
So pardon the mess, the chewed up and charred decayed flesh
It’s amazing after murderin’ my clothes stay fresh
When lames test me, skate on suckers like Wayne Gretzky
Fuck model chicks with little dogs and gay besties
Ya crew sweat me, no label — it’s too sketchy
More powerful than Q, for all of my true Trekkies
You’ll get the Vulcan death grip like Spock
I’m like a shepherd with a Glock overlookin’ my flock
A rock-solid Rottweiler, I’ll annihilate crews
Of all these new school rappers violatin’ the rules
I’m like the principal, invincible rap, Ap’s the physical
Matter, A Master of the Universe, or an invisible
Deity, gotta speak to me in subsonic frequency
I never ever let a bottom feeder eat with me
That energy is way too toxic, these fake suckers lost it
No more soft shit!
No more soft shit!
No more soft shit!
No more soft shit!
No more soft shit!
Get your Spartacus and Marcus Aurelius affiliates
Each man due diligence
Every word has merit, balls are steel bearings
As long as I can walk I stay runnin’ my errands
Slow deaths bein’ dropped in the middle of the desert
With a 12 ounce can o’ sprite and some hot peppers
The hot stepper, feelin’ myself, I bypass heifers
Not really worth the time or the effort
This a direct message, style’s from the essence
From the origins of rap, frauds bow in my presence
Vincent Price didn’t give em nightmares
In they sleep, in the dark what appears to em is like flares
Brightly lit, this ain’t no niche
Some who made it this far some mistake or a glitch
Take a moment if you feelin’ ya heart, you’re an opponent
Be a figment of mirage, an optical illusion
Fool the consumers through social network B.S
Rumors worse than the hoes and opportunists (ha)
Her blood moon indicates that I’m comin’ for ya
Spells doom, ya’ll about to witness Hell soon
Divine signs, amateurs not ready for prime time
So peep as the situation winds down
The last bars they acknowledge were Ap
But surely singin’ the lively notes described in the chorus, so…