Stop What Ya Doin'-1 - Apathy, Celph Titled

Good evening

I wanna take this time to introduce Apathy, featuring Celph Titled

We’re gonna get rough, rugged and raw for a minute

Oh, who me?

I go by the name of DJ Premier

So I guess we should do what we do, when we do what we do, aight?

Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin

The image and the style that you’re used to

Cause I’m about to ruin

The image and the style that you’re used to

I got an appetite for destruction, Ap is back

Murder beats, get hoes, there’s an app for that

Grab the battle axe, jacked X-Clan's pink Cadillac

(Sissy!) I’m a Garbage Pail Kid doing the Cabbage Patch

Play chief, get shot with a stray arrow

You suckers imitate more rappers than Jay Pharoah

Rocking gay apparel, them jeans’ll make you sterile

I’m steady stocking that ammo and cockin' the double barrel

Rock a show hard as an army of Viking warriors

Storming your little village then pillage 'til we victorious

Stories of us painted on the walls of caves

An image of your bitch sucking on my balls for days

I’m like Genghis Khan on the back of a horse

Or Billy Joel with a bottle of Jack on the dash of the Porsche

Blast with a force of Soviet Rockets and cold wars

You’re on tour bagging whores with cold sores

Do the wisdom, fuck bitches to the rhythm

I’m hard as nuclear fission, a student of pugilism

Which means Ap’ll knock your motherfucking head off

I’m logical like Spock, drink vodka like Checkov

Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin

The image and the style that you’re used to

Cause I’m about to ruin

The image and the style that you’re used to

Pirate mentality, teeth holding a knife in place

Meet me on a rap tour and a raptor might bite your face

And what would happen is you’ll get shipped out in packages

Thank God I keep the meat tenderizer in my cabinet

But truthfully (what?) My vision varies

I go from a visionary to a vicious leader of killer militaries

Using old machine guns, why need better gats?

These’ll still burn holes in motherfuckers like a treasure map (Blat!)

Think that Celph’s soft, and I’mma just stare at y’all

Cause I’m Cyclops, and yes the sunglasses are off

So get a bulletproof armor suit and chin guard

Army surplus galore, I’m throwing more than ten darts (Yeah)

My prestige is presidential

I’m prevalent when you pressing the pressure, preppy, I’m prepping my pistol

I’ll cast a pyramid hex

That leave you dickheads covered in blood like period sex

Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin

The image and the style that you’re used to

Cause I’m about to ruin

The image and the style that you’re used to

I break through all barriers trust Ap’ll bury ya

Nowadays rappers sound like Cartoon characters (Hilarious)

Raps I write cover an area with paragraphs

Are larger than aircraft carriers

Swearing yeah my middle finger express my hand gesture (Fuck you)

You a she-man dressed in a dress like Fran Drescher

Cro-Magnon with a crowbar, might eat you

Pro with a Magnum, keep you in check like Nike sneakers

I’m white as wife beaters on white trash on cop shows

Selling stolen Picassos in front of Costco’s

This is the Demigodz gospel: unholy and hostile

Acidic apocalyptic apostles

Pop those snot-nosed thugs who act

Mail-order a gun and they afraid to pop the bubble wrap

My gun powder’s dusting 'em, my guns and them is troublesome

My Glock alone is like a foster home 'cause I be sonning them

Alright, stop what ya doin', cause I’m about to ruin

The image and the style that you’re used to

Cause I’m about to ruin

The image and the style that you’re used to