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Mother Molesters - Apathy/Chris Lowe
Yeah Chelsea Clinton Where you at b**ch
Yeeeaaahhhh you monkey motherf**kers
This is Celph Titled the motherf**kin'
Trife-A-Saurus Rex
And I've got my motherf**kin ni**a Majik Most
About to molest every female b**ch
In your f**kin family
You want more info
Dial 1-900-Get-F**ked-Up
For twenty-five stitches a minute
I don't give a f**k if you're handicapped
You talk that sh*t I'll bust a handy cap in that a**
Yo Majik bust them in the head
And leave 'em retarded
Bring that sh*t ni**a
Yeah yeah yo
Majik Most is here now stop tryin' to rhyme
Even your mom says you just wastin' your time
I'll catch you in line as you apply for Medicaid
And beat you in the skull with a prosthetic leg
Majik's got it made all
In-between your girls thighs
Any tough guys get smashed and pulverized
I'm off the hook like fish alibi's
Why diss
It's high risk try this
Die quick in your whip
With a windshield wiper through your iris
You not feelin' this
I'll crush your grandmothers hip
Then strip the emergency bracelet off her wrist
I love to shoot the gift
Man I rock a Santa suit when inside a vocal booth
I'll blast you through the roof
Just to show and prove
Oh you still want beef (ah ha ha)
I'll bust your chops
F**k you up like a Cyclops
In a w**d spot with no eye drops
Motherf**kers
Hip hop is back (yeah yeah)
But you're a faggot in drag
Rockin' a dress
That used to be your dads
I'll choke you with your do-rag
Slam you on a concrete slab
Oh you mad
Cause Majik Most is so d**e I whack kids
Hijack the city bus with my man Dutch Massive
Hit the strip club
Celph and Ap got free passes
Every verse I write considered classic
A suplex Superman like a girl in a skirt
Bury you in the dirt
Rappers get placed in a world of hurt
You tryin' to mack a dame
But your game doesn't work
You should feel lame and ashamed
When you go home and jerk
Cause I be havin' big titty b**ches buying my shirt
While you lurkin' in the bushes
With a perverted smirk
So jealous of the way I be ridin' the track
You put your walkman on my rap
And fantasize that you're Ap
But I'll be shittin' on you nerd
Motherf**kers for fun
Till I make you mad enough
To come to school with a gun
Beat you up until you cry
And take your money for lunch
They'll be mopping up your face
By the twentieth punch
You faggots get ghost
Puttin' holes in the fabric of clothes
My automatic blows metal
Through the back of your domes
I'm mackin' your hoes
Rapid flows that'll roast opponents
Who play me close or battle with Majik Most
Stop a second and drop your weapon b**ch
(b**ch )
I meant to kill you back
When the doctor stepped in
And said your mom was pregnant
Stomp the section of her stomach
Where a baby doll sleeps
Roast beef with both feet
Wearing weighted golf cleats
Leave behind a blood trail
And a bottle of Seagram's Gin
Covered in my bloody finger print
And blame my evil twin
But since I didn't see you there
I'll burn your studio
I'll fill you with warm slugs
Like you turned marsupial
I'm like a savage bushman
Chargin' through the outback
I'll kick you in your asses cushion
Whether with or without rap
Whether with or without Ap
Celph or Majik Most
I'll smash your nose
And drag your ghost
Right out from your fractured bones
I'll have your folks singin' church songs
Dressed in black
Your former fans only question asked is
"Where has that herb gone"
I'll stab you
Carve you with a sharp knife and tag you
With bad news
So you know my name and what have you
A lot of rappers gonna die this year
And that's the truth
And I'll probably end up responsible for a few
Communication ain't a problem
My guns speak all languages
Gimme what I want
Or be a dumb ni**a brainless
I'm the complete opposite with ** fiend chicks
I know straight-edge b**ches
That'll smoke crack to suck my dick
Floss through the hood
And stack chips by the cases
I've got more whips
Than a slave-master dominatrix
I won't even do a cameo
I get paid for my ad-libs
Visit your girl and f**k her
From her baby-back ribs
You might as well go snow skiing or somethin'
It's your only chance to rock ice without frontin'
Throw a monkey wrench in your program
Make you go ape sh*t
Attach your head to a launching space ship
Give you a face lift
It's basic
Bury your corpse under the basement
I'm ill enough to start a ** war
With the Jamaicans
Don't make me have to pop your collar bone
Put the silence on the chrome
And let my Rottweilers roam
Thirsty for blood
Ready to shatter your brain
I talk a lot of sh*t on records
But I can back up my claims
Motherf**ker
