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lirik lagu apoca-liips – cj anfernee

[intro]: all tanks, wardaddy. looks like i’m it

[verse 1 * cj anfernee]:

solitude’s finest with lyrical sinusitis
n*ggas think they ill till they stepping on ground zero
i bring so much pain, i leave your prosthetic with arthritis
i draw an outline with chalk around your ego
been a while since i been in the wild
penned some category 5s when i was self*exiled (uh huh)
six foot assassin, rest in peace to phife (woo!)
i stomp in the jungle even after my afterlife (n*gga)
kong’s theme, the donkeys that wanna be king
you dim f*cks couldn’t hold a candlе to my regime
come corrеct or get corrected
n*ggas suck on a mic more than on their girl’s nipples erected
hand’s on your clip? nah n*gga, your hand’s on your cl*t
apoca*liips, love the smell of napalm when i spit
rapping ass n*ggas really hoes, and i’ma pimp some (i’m a pimp, n*gga)
i turn orenthal james on a simp, son
my brothers feel like steph curry
you “mvps” will get your rings knocked the f*ck out for starting up that sega (b*tch!)
sonic’lly, you sound funny to wiseguys. i jimmy your doors two times to get the paper (get the paper!)
we are not from the same cloth
i manhandle my troubles , you nothing but fine china (mm!)
keep my foot on your neck, stomp on it like “mazel tov” (mm!)
punchlines to your chest leave you diagnosed with angina (sssss)
one time for my scorleone sibling
for jae and the underground kings, we big pimping
all my brothers on the scene like they lucas
handling our business, conglomerated units
blood say they got you then switch their colors like rubic’s
i pen the strength of your fullest metal jacket, i’m black kubrick (i’m black kubrick, b*tch!)
my music is purely therapeutic
unfiltered bars delivered sharp for sport, that’s undisputed

[verse 2 * kreecher (and cj anfernee)]:
yeah n*gga
cj, that sh*t hard, n*gga
(yeah, do me a favor. f*ck these n*ggas up for me, man. let’s get it.)
feel the wrath of the kreecher
i gotta laugh, cause n*ggas acting facetious
in the aftermath, it’ll be way harder to reach us (uh)
so state ya claim right now (right now, n*gga)
make your name for the clout and fame right now (fame right now, n*gga)
sn*tch the pen out the hands of an amateur (hah!)
and as for having friends? it depends on what they asking for
some of the fans don’t even like all of that lyrical sh*t (f*ck ’em)
what then is you listening to me rapping for?
now that i got the rest of y’all attention, y’all know what it is (huh?!)
i could flow for an hour off the dome on this sh*t (huh?!)
shine brighter than the diamonds and the gold on the wrist
of your favourite rapper, colder than the snow where he live
cj said to go easy, but i have no f*cks to give (nah)
i’m hungry, and this beat is like the stove at my crib (ssssssss)
hot, so i’ma wear it out like clothes on the road to the riches, ain’t no time to stop and pose for the pics (uh, yow)
so i see y’all tryna keep up with the siblings (keep up with the siblings, b*tch)
it’s kinda hard when you can’t keep up with the innings (keep up with the innings, b*tch)
we run ’em out, while they keep running out at the f*cking mouth
6 shots and it’s over, what the h*ll is you talking ’bout, n*gga?!
(over, what the h*ll is you talking ’bout, n*gga?!)

- cj anfernee

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