Spit Gemz - No Such Thing lyrics

[Verse 1: Apathy] Live from the eye of the storm I transform Shoot up the dance floor Make your who*es' pants warm This is madness Memoir the thoughts of a savage Who packs automatics in Louis Vuitton baggage I bash sh** Bloody a bloody ya whole rap clique And jump outta Jabba the Hutts barge with a back flip Bastion a never ending story on a dragon I'm flying down the block with timbs and pants sagging A catalog that will leave your ghostwriter dead Cause I stay on fire like Ghost Rider's head Keep the toast by the bed With supplies of meds In a standoff with dreads and wise guys and feds Okay, maybe I just play too much Xbox Clash your competition like Yankees and Red Sox I love when hoes call me big poppa Sticking my dick in ‘em, inflicting 'em with stigmata [Hook X2] There's no such thing, as too much hoes Too much weed, or too much doe Cause all I do is f**, get high and get mine All I do is f**, get high and get mine [Verse 2: Spit Gemz] Night stalker Cool as a white walker Might dead the buy bread and slide for the side offer Live author Talk down to ya high enforcer When I die, you tell 'em capture this look in my eye in portraits I rise, my return (is) designed to apply torture To live corpses of the side talkers operated, carnivore With a carnival of monsters I created A king maker who's regicidal My regimen reckless Unrecognizable, unregistered rifle on blast Catch these clips, the skit's viral Mind detect Mind, mine detects mines I step aside 'em and Address my rivals I'll send'em something they can sign for Showing that your rhymes s** Is exactly why I signed up Line 'em up Who the next to get doja'd Get folded I'll put your heels on the back of your shoulders Boulders, smash skully's (Scully) like a regular Mulder It's over.. [Hook X2] There's no such thing, as too much hoes Too much weed, or too much doe Cause all I do is f**, get high and get mine All I do is f**, get high and get mine [Verse 3: Nutso] Yeah Umbilical cord snapper Giving life to rappers Pounds at the left hand f**boys wearing pampers I hop out the hamper like honey I'm home With your favorite robe on and put the crone to her dome Dominican Republic, a presidential debater Drug smuggler cartel the boy motivator Playing raze and tag four corners elevators Selling to him piece on stage, mic slayer Rolling Stone rock star, eight balls, Bloody Marys b**hes powder their nose, giving me head in taxis Welcome to the Nutso show Where fakes get exposed Head chopped off, brain splattered to the front row Call me Nutstigliano I put my stigmata in a big bu*t stink Italiana Five star amada, until mañana [?] no injections, natural nauticas [Hook X2] There's no such thing, as too much hoes Too much weed, or too much doe Cause all I do is f**, get high and get mine All I do is f**, get high and get mine [Outro] I'm shaking hands with many devils in the industry Devils in the industry Devils in the industry