Versuri Apathy - Here come the gangstas
[Chorus:]
"Here come the gangstas...Uh huh
and you can-t see their face...Uh huh" [x2]
"They-re comin- for you"
[Verse 1:]
CT all day, bad news all day
Grade school teacher moved my desk into the hallway
Trouble starter, mother/father taught me how to hustle harder
See dough like Nino, but fuck The Carter, must be smarter
Apply the profit -till my pockets overflow
Any opposition tryin- to stop it and I-ll overthrow
Comin- out buckin- like a cowboy on a bull at a rodeo
Throw you in a hole below the stone where the ??? go
Flows that all your homies know from Canada to Tokyo
I-m steppin on your toes like an amateur that dosey doe
Scientific, typical, a genius is the evilest
Who raised hell so high, the Eskimos are feverish
Be cool, -cause me even dealin- with these fools
Is kinda like a rocket scientist teachin- pre-school
Y-all swear to God that ya gangsta gangsta
But reality-ll rearrange ya
[Chorus]
[Verse 2:]
Even with all the hate and love that I-ve received
I sit and read off the page -till my iris bleed
I-ve seen it all from the backwoods, -burbs and trees
Overseas, back to CT, home to me
To them shitty city blocks, dudes hustlin- ki-s
Where the breeze blows excess weaves like tumbleweeds
I-m up 24/7 with beats in my head
No time to sleep, son, I-ll sleep when I-m dead
And I ain-t really sweatin- all that MC shit
Forget -em, I buy backpackers and trendy chicks
-Cause when I start to see success, then the envy hits
They used to love me, now I-m on their enemy list
I-m tryin- to write the right song that-ll get me rich
Dip in the Hollywood hills -till my Bentley flips
My flow-s fluid as a wave that a jetski skips
My wife-s Japanese and white, little sexy bitch
My pen-s a MAC-10, my freestyle-s a shell
My cell was set with a speed dial for Hell
So...no more thinkin- that you-re gangsta gangsta
But reality-ll rearrange ya
[Chorus]
[Bridge x2:]
It-s all gangstas, gangstas at the top of the list
So I play my own shit, it goes somethin- like this
[Verse 3:]
I-m the icing on the cake, money in the bank
Inmates who make shanks out the mixtape case
The look on a fiend-s face when his lips taste base
Is based on the fact that crack put him into outer space
Based on that, if this is just based on rap
I keep it basic and just bump bass on tracks
In fact...A lot of y-all think ya gangsta gangsta
But reality-ll rearrange ya
[Chorus]
[Outro:]
Yeah, Chum...another Skrilla Guerilla killa
Demigodz, Doe Rakers
What up, Celph? What up, Mo-?
What up, Hoot? What up, Splïff?
What up, E? What up, South Paw?
Yeah...uhh! Uh!
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