Get Ya Weight Up

A-P-A-C-H-E, GET YA WEIGHT UP! GET YA WEIGHT UP! To all you fictional fake fags, frauds and fronts I'm here to get puffed and rip shit and I'm all out of Philly blunts Step up, step up - who's starvin for static? That's like playin Russian Roulette with an automatic Full grown, the last kid I did tried to hold his own Rushed his crib, smacked his bitch, held him hostage in his own home Fucked up, goodbye - somebody sing his ass a lullaby Tried for juice, but got a noose for a necktie Black man, black ass and black heart Use force, cut up his corpse, dispose of his body parts To me fun is pullin a gun in a fair fight I'm the hype type, my mic is my peace pipe My tomahawk talks, you sink like a battleship Fuck a bow and arrow, pass me the Tec and 2 clips Gimme some comp to stomp, fuck the glory Come witness more smoke and more bodies than a crematory You defeat me, beat me, on the contrary I'll knock out your fronts and sell 'em to the tooth fairy Ask the last kid who said I couldn't rock I scalped his ass, and left his head in his mailbox - 2X I speak clear so you can hear, that's what I'm all about So cut that niggidy niggidy naggedy bullshit out Monkey see, monkey do, time to face the facts One or two, only a few get props for that Give the next man a face or neck brace to start Took his girl, took his manhood and took his heart Give him time to rhyme, then dump him in a ditch Takin gangsters and makin 'em my "Gangsta Bitch" Where's the conflict, trouble's comin and won't fail You think your weight's up? Then step on a skill scale You're too thin to win before I begin to blast Your dialogue sucks, your lyrics are light in the ass Me and mines remain fine and in mint condition They get rougher, yours suffer from malnutrition Stop sleepin on the job slob, I advise Dream about kickin my ass, wake up and apologize I'm a contender, while you plot and plan Got speed and a lead like the Gingerbread Man Bring your best buck, watch 'em get stuck up Look for safety, I'm rigged to blow the fuck up - 2X Fuck it who's got dice; cee-lo I got the bankhead the bank's a bullet Lose with the Tec to your teeth, hold the trigger then pull it With the gift I come swift with a straight arch Competition I leave 'em stiffer than spray starch Got a high strung tongue, can you catch it or match it Those who tried died by the hatchet I play to win friend, your game I aim for the chin Rap is a hobby, I kick ASS for a livin So what you get radio play and your record sold And you were told your shit just might go gold When I step up and strike, be prepared to duck I'm one deep, I don't sleep and don't give a fuck I'm a hood from the hood, better yet instead It might be safer for you if you covered your head If you win then I'll begin to bruise ya Fuck that, I'm goin out cause I'm a sore loser When I roll up to stick-up I got'cha Gimme mine, pay me or pay the doctor Don't fuck with a man 'til you're full grown Cause I'd hate to dislocate your ass bone - 2X