Name: Apex (feat. Nems, Apathy, Anoyd, Mickey Factz & Ren Thomas)
Duration: 6 min 39 s
Description: Слушайте песню Apex (feat. Nems, Apathy, Anoyd, Mickey Factz & Ren Thomas) - Chris Webby, Anoyd, Apathy, Mickey Factz, Nems, Ren Thomas онлайн с альбома Next Wednesday в хорошем HiFi качестве с сервисом Звук. Продолжительность песни - 6:39. Год выхода - 2018

Next Wednesday

Chris Webby

Long Way

World Wide Web

Skyline 2

Anoyd

2001 (feat. Anoyd)

Skrizzly Adams

Sell Your Soul (feat. Skrizzly Adams)

Solitaire

Bennet

Keep Rollin' (feat. Bennett)

Jarren Benton

Sometimes (feat. Jarren Benton)

Gold Toilets

Tazmanian Devil

Jon Connor

HipHop Legend (feat. JAG & Jon Connor)

Our Way (feat. Skrizzly Adams)

Apathy

Mickey Factz

Nems

Ren Thomas

Apex (feat. Nems, Apathy, Anoyd, Mickey Factz & Ren Thomas)

Rap/R&B

We the food chain's apex - and muh'fucker we ain't ate yet

Any food sittin' on your plate's what we'll take next

Keep it dirty on the mic, but we stay fresh

You run off on the plug, we just hang the connect

Put this in your tape deck, it'll break the cassette

Soon as I finish writin' my verse, I bang on my chest

'Cause I'm an ape-x predator, spray TECs, wet you up

You a bridesmaid at a same-sex wedding, bruh

Your best work is shit we do on the regular

Homie you not a killa, at best you an embezzler

Hatin' on us in the game from the cheap seats

I will pull up on your girl like, beep, beep (beep beep)

Bitch get in the motherfuckin' car and eat meat

I know your mother, she ain't raised no shooter

And that chain is garbage you should hate your jeweler

Give my little man a ounce of haze and buddah

Have him pull up on a Razer scooter, blaze and shoot ya

I grind hard every day 'cause we ain't gettin' younger

Top of the food chain with a tremendous hunger

While Webby was in the booth spittin' bars

I went into his phone and stole Halle Berry's number, what up

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected."

Your father shoulda pulled out and blew it all over your mom's rear

You're trash that pop beers on the back of a John Deere (Apathy!)

Better cop No-Doz, 'cause sleepin' on this song here

You'll wake up with long beards, and think it's the wrong year

Aw yeah, beat you to death, diss you at the seance

Then cut it short, like the hairdo on your gay Aunts

Melted cassettes, scratched up wax and scribbled raps

On scraps, while hoes Snapchattin' they snatch

So distractin', extractin' souls while I'm relaxin'

The pyramid builder, windmillin' into a backspin

Adios suckers, I'm peelin' out in the Audi

Feelin' out how the crowd be - real fuckin' rowdy

Fight music, type of evil demons want to fight to it

Kill the mic and resurrect it, then I'll put a spike through it

I'll tie it to a rocket, and fire it at a fiery comet

You're finally seein' my psychotic side when I'm on it

Invite me to flaunt it, you saw it and you violently vomit

I'm the worst-case scenario like AIDS in your flu shots

You rappers scared to flow should take a bath with ya boombox

"Ravishing" Rick Rude, in a savage and sick mood

Turn rappers to fish food, get masses of chicks nude

Soon as the verse starts, the vets give purple hearts

Yo, I possibly raps illest, I knew these wack spitters were catfittish

And I'm flabbergasted that you attached with it (C.T.!)

If I subtract fingers, can you "add"-mit it, I'm that wicked

You'll get it later like last minute, shock critics, Infinite

And don't come up 'til I'm sure I can really cure lung disorder

With a bunch of quarters, I'm sure I could fund your public order

But I'm keepin' everything to myself when amongst a hoarder

That kinda sorta, Webby call when he need me to merc a verse

Then I slur my words like I'm Dirt Mcgirt when convertin' herbs

And insertin' thirds at the curb, in a virgin you don't deserve

When the curtain says, "do not disturb" and you still observe, it's a burden

I wear my Air Forces when it's pourin' the rain check

The food chain's apex, I feel like a plane wreck in the main deck

Born cam, get too out the frame, Did you picture this? (Factz!)

I move militant, too intricate, who's into this

I'm only the good elements off the food pyramid

You listeners need to hire a nutritionist

King with these cool images, rule villages

Y'all food primitives, did my research on you shitty buffoon lyricists

So technically, y'all could say that I do due diligence

This is school syllabus, learn what I earned, I urge you to move different

Or squirm and get burned from the words, I spew cinemas

Remove privileges, Tom Hardy I'm too venomous (yeah)

Make a wish, colorful alias, graffiti mind

We be ridin', see me try to just keep in line

Make a move, without movin', I get that Ouija vibe

I've been makin' bodies disappear like Bin Laden's (uh huh)

Need people to send dollars every time my pen rhymin'

Fact is I need ten commas next to the name Ren Thomas

Tell the truth, with a gun to my head I'm dead honest (bang)

Tired of them comments, sayin' I look like so-and-so (oh, really?)

But these rap cats will never reach me, like my phone is broke

Assholes sniffin' Paxil capsules in the bathroom (sniff, ah!)

While y'all suck at whatever rapper you get attached to (faggot!)

I'm raisin' bars like Roseanne's old man (uh huh)

I'm in the trenches everyday, going Rambo ham (braaat!)

I peep how they plagiarize, think I'm slippin' you played your eyes

Beef with my team and doctors will stabilize (yeah)

I ain't cocky, how great am I? Since I was 8 or 9 (uh huh)

I first ever created rhymes, took the game and made it mine (It's mine!)

Had a Mother's Against Drunk Driving meeting in the road (Hello!)

Afterwards we got drunk in the parking lot and drove

Got Dr. Jekyll's personality, with nothin' to hide

I'm In-N-Out... of my mind, Double-Double with fries

So cover your eyes, you gon' need a spot you could hide

Or hop in a ride, leave town, and cop a disguise

The Lord of the Flies, face war paint with the pig's blood

Always on the grind since the times that I flipped bud

Runnin' up a tab but I'm still tippin' like Slim Thug

Underground money shit, I'm hustlin' with Dig Dug

Rap hot, spellin' out my syllables in caps lock

Sharper than a slap chop blade when the track drop

Catch me outside, like a motherfucking airport bag drop

Twenty in a matchbox, we gon' start a fire now

Still just warming up while my competition is dying down

Sway labeled me a hyena but wear a lion's crown

You better get to lyin' down, welcome to our fuckin' side of town

Indominus dinosaur, the kind that rhymers watchin' for

Disassemble every part of your body is on the floor

Smashin' Aphrodite up on the throne of the God of War

Tuco Salamanca, I'm breakin' bad for the genre

From the north, where the sunset it's dark, naked and proper

I'm bonkers and button-pushin' in Contra Konami Code with a choppa

The only honky they bumpin' out in Wakanda

Rollin' with some wolves and some lions, tigers, and bears

With some eagles, hawks, and a falcon that's flyin' high in the air

Got a tank that be full of sharks, and a silverback that'll tear you in half

So just be prepared, yeah they callin' us

The food chain's apex - and muh'fucker we ain't ate yet

Any food sitting on your plate's what we'll take next

Слушайте песню Apex (feat. Nems, Apathy, Anoyd, Mickey Factz & Ren Thomas) - Chris Webby, Anoyd, Apathy, Mickey Factz, Nems, Ren Thomas онлайн с альбома Next Wednesday в хорошем HiFi качестве с сервисом Звук. Продолжительность песни - 6:39. Год выхода - 2018

Apex (feat. Nems, Apathy, Anoyd, Mickey Factz & Ren Thomas)

Текст песни

Поток по треку

Другие треки альбома «Next Wednesday»

Другие альбомы артиста

Артисты для вас