Apathy - STOMPKILLCRUSHMODE lyrics

[Verse 1: Apathy] Yo I got mad precision, with baggin’ chickens Take ‘em back to the crib and make bad decisions I’m a god when spittin’, every song is written More complex than Japanese long division And I’m nice with the hands, f** around get a nosebleed I never took a L, like a kid who don’t smoke weed And I been f**in’ bird brain since first grade When you ain’t ever seen it, like the p**y on a mermaid Read the scripture, my freeze is sicker Than an obese stripper with a fever blister I get deeper in your sister than a speech from Krishna Deeper than government labs where they freezin’ Hitler Heed the warnin’, the creature’s formin’ Who leave mic’s exhausted, your speakers yawnin’ You can chop up my body, even eat the organs I’m respawnin’ like Jesus on Easter morning [Chorus: Apathy and (O.C.)] I don’t give a f** yo (Certified nutso) Out for the gusto (Meanin’ I get much dough) Motherf**in’ cut throat (Bodies by the bus load) Stomp k** and Crush mode (It’s why I get my nuts raw) X2 I don’t give a f** yo [Verse 2: O.C.] Weed pa**ed around in the party Thunder and lightning from the verbal tsunami Blows anonymous that John ‘Beast’ Mugabi Verse haggle, a life’s forever a fight inside me The underground’s my zone so f** chartin’ billboard Rocked at legendary spots like the Fillmore Groupies tuggin’ on my silk drawers Get love from those behind bars, locked behind steel doors My report’s a toss up between Ea/Poet Piñero I’m a certified rap hero For twenty years explored the world over O’s Globalist box hard to reach via mobile It’s all from vocals, over music I record Through time for die-hards, again I’m at your disposal I’m the calm one, but my man is sort a sick Ap’s the type to tell ya chick “s** my…” (haha) [Chorus] [Verse 3: Celph Titled] Back in the day I shoulda signed to Suave House I shoulda bought the publishin’ to “Who Let The Dogs Out” But all that shoulda, coulda, woulda sh** is for complainers Turn your body parts to pudding, put em in containers And it’s a shame I got problems with Jake, like Gyllenhaal haters My ninja stars surf like billabong razors I’ll still lick Nicki Minaj’s silicone layers And every mother f**in’ gun I get, I will install lasers IRA fireman, send the W-demo To Dublin, Ireland, for armed practice firin’ And when I’m swellin’ melons, you’ll get sent to Intensive Care ‘Cause I’ll make your hat bigger than ? Pharrell would wear Put on a Ted costume and commit the crime bare-faced My AR aerates, you guys wear lace Yes, my dough is long, so y’all b**hes know the song If I take a selfie, it’s a god damn photobomb [Chorus: 2x]