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Apathy
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Half Dead ft Roc Marciano and Planet Asia
[Verse 1:Apathy]
Ayyo I'm flyer than Airwolf mean as a Werewolf
The automatic Mac-10 in operation wolf
I spin a flesh blood shatter spinal columns
Spleen splitters shit a rapper out
Ill as Jason Bourne when I'm blackin' out
Blast 'em outta this stratosphere
Ap is here better make some cash appear
Freddy Krueger music rap slash ya ear
So don't go to sleep I'm rippin' out the souls of victims
Black hole flow swallow whole solar systems
Getaway car driver I learned from pole position
Gettin' closer to God but follow no religion
Poems written with precision >bones flickin' force??<
Shiftin' as quick as a Porsche with Delorean doors
The travel back in the past like Marty McFly
My raps are like drugs to keep the audience high
Yo I batter bodies badly with batteries in my beanie
Be bugging and bludgeon any bastard that say he beat me
Beneath me is a dungeon with dragons and executioners
Verses are scourges that'll infect the whole universe
Expect lots of funerals, bodies with Rigormortis
Metamorphosis, I'll put you in the ocean deep as porpoises
[Refrain: Planet Asia]
We got guns to leave you with a half head
To the money the math's lead
You on your last leg
Nothing moving but cash, bread
No money down, you half dead
Half dead
[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]
Late night, in the telly slinging bagged up
Turn crack to cash, like 'Abracadabra'
Pearl white 'Lac, macs hang plasmas
Hoes obey pastors, like slave masters
Tre-eight blaster, thousand dollar pack passer
Fiends looking like spacecrafts, passed ya
That's the sig-nature, slim in stature
Smoked out, foaming at the mouth like a non-factor
Real hoes hold white for us
Nigga, we hot boys - explains why Allah put this ice on us
Cool 'em off, give 'em two for the snort
What you thought would give play on Source
You pay the whole course
Before them four-fours, shoot up doors
Shots at ya Yukon, Rocket just like a newborn
Powerful poems, put poems on valuable homes
While them addicts looking blown, like a trombone
Examine a man with stamina
And where I'm from you either flip grams or be a janitor
[Refrain]
[Verse 3: Planet Asia]
Pekoe pirate, hitman for hire, ayah
Money over boppers, you're singing to the choir
I am the flyest, wittiest, high, sadddiest
Intertwined with the crime committee
The grittiest, hideous henchman
Central Valley, rally 'round a verse
This is drugs, those who need plugs
Welcome to the crack convention
Shell-toe Adidas don, Sam Smith-ing
True grizzly on a land mission
I drop jewels to make the fans listen
Pop tools at your mans dissin'
Knock noodles out ya can of spinach
Planet is vintage
Dirty birds don't get chose
Only the handlers that's handlin' business
If I ruled the world, there'd be no eighty-fivers
The swine dining, spook worshipers would know the science
The mic's in my hand, the moment is mines now
The shine now, lil' ma is all on my line now
My grind's style is serious, period plus
It ain't another in your area that's touching this look
My aura is right, my team is solid and worthy
I knew early they didn't teach getting cream in college
I'm burning, finer leafs of spliffs, laced in Bally shags
Might catch me in South Beach, hopping out a Jag
When it comes to the paper no time for lollygagging
After this, might have to give your chick the mighty Magnum
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