Can't Leave Rap Alone - Apathy, Celph Titled, Ryu (of Styles of Beyond)

Yeah…

I’m like a '88 classic, Apathy goes back

To Filas with straps and Don Mattingly throwbacks

I’m back bitch, on some asshole rap shit

Rarely ever seen like Asian dudes with black chicks

You muthafuckas wanna scrap?

Be quiet!

You know when Apathy drops, you happily buy it

All these cats are a riot, wanna rap, so they try it

But’ll quit as quick as Ruben Studdard on the Atkins diet

I ain’t the type to blow scratch on tricks

Slap tricks in the trap if teeth scratch the dick

Chicken’s in the kitchen makin' chicken from scratch and shit

Check it, Chum’s on the track with the scratch and mix

Y’all don’t even understand who you scrappin' with

I got Timbs in the trunk, won’t scratch my kicks

Y’all are brewin' up a plot, tryin' to get Ap to flip?

Do yourself a favor — scratch that shit, cause…

Even though muthafuckas tryin' to see me…

«Can't leave rap alone, the game needs me» [- Jay-Z

The way I think, I make it look easy

«Can't leave rap alone, the game needs me» [- Jay-Z

You got doubts, but please believe me

«Can't leave rap alone, the game needs me» [- Jay-Z

Go ask your mom to cop this CD

«Can't leave rap alone, the game needs me» [- Jay-Z

The Rubix Cuban’s at your door, but I ain’t singin' no carols

I’m like Donkey Kong, I got you niggas dodgin' my barrels

Don’t give a fuck where your label’s from

We runnin' up in your office, holdin' your CEO hostage with a staple gun

And ain’t no stoppin' this don;

I got soccer moms

Puttin' Glocks in their palms and wildin' out to opera songs

Blow off your brim, turn your fitted to a kufi

I’m like Ricky Ricardo except, «I Love Uzis»

When I’m in the crowd, these rappers are shook

They won’t stage dive unless they got a harness with a grapplin' hook

Damn right, my raps are real ill

The Celph Titled talkin' doll says, «Kill, kill»

Oh, you’s a tough guy, sayin' that you brawl in these fights?

But you got your nose broken by a white bitch from a volleyball spike

Old timers ask me where I got my pimp game from

Cause I got 99 bitches and ain’t a problem with one

I’m the one to call when your third verse is free

Slip slugs in a pump and disperse emcees

Six gunner with a potty mouth, spittin' up mud

I stay trippin' with a 40 oz., sippin' them suds

Outta Cali with a bang, bitch!

Fuckin' insane, bitch

The man savin' L.A., forget about Game, bitch

I never claim Crip, but I’ll murder my language

If I can’t handle it quick, I’ll have it arranged then

Last nine summers, you been suckin' the same dick

But Jay’s gone, and I’m still fuckin' 'em brainless

At the Holiday Inn, my Doc Holiday grins

A little too much for one, so I’ll probably get twins

Let the party begin, take it back to the telly

Your body is doper than coke, but your crack is smelly

At the show, they was rippin' all their panties and bras down

They love it, cause officially I’m one of the 'godz now