[Apathy] My Nikes are real white, check one My Nikes are real white, check two I'm a ba*tard that'll master ways to ma**acre the ma**es Like a ma**ive meteor that smash your cities into ashes I'll bash these lil' f*ggots 'til your face is facin backwards Wait for you, I'm takin you to quiet places in the backwoods Where a whole {?} thuggers, sluggers waitin very patiently They travel through the chamber of the banger very gracefully And dance through your cranium, tangle with your brain stem Salsa with your cerebellum, quickly rearrange them Exit through your earholes, firin projectiles My bullets are accumulatin frequent flyer miles I'm Doe Rakin, cakin off multiple enterprisin businesses With weight up in the rental keepin enterprisin business kid an*lyzin every possibility like physicists My fist'll fracture faces faster than pistols that spit at this The proof's when the album drop, crew on the alpha lot But Ap up on the mic is like Zeus on the mountaintop Lightning for a mic exploder, most them rappers' lifes are over Fight provoker, wifey stroker, rare exotic Nike owner Voodoo speaker, speaker blower, blow your momma, mind'll blow ya Brain it's all the same if you take it back and rewind it over Overtime, score tied, seconds are tickin For recognition I be spittin 'til the records is skippin Respect the clique and everything'll be cool Y'all better check if it's cool I'll just eject the feul in your record pool [Hook: Emilio Lopez] + (Apathy) We some Doe Rakers, we some soul takers But, all we tryin to do is get mo' paper We some Doe Rakers, we some ho takers Whole clique flow sick, ain't no fakers (My Nikes are real white, check one) You know? (My Nikes are real white, check two) Geah! (Check one, check two, check one-two) You know? (Check one, check two, check one-two) Geah! [Motive] Yo, yo if you heard of Doe Rakers then you already know I roll with a clique, that persists to flip that dough See while you're at school tryin to play that tic-tac-toe I was with your lil' sis, findin how to hit that ho Let me talk to all these n***as wanna get at Mo' No warnin, your peeps mournin cause they miss you so A clown n***a, lay down like six feet low Cause y'all thought it was just a game when you spit that flow No! Not on a throne yet, but I'm a known threat Plus I'm known for puttin somethin in pussies like Kotex I'm on some CEO sh**, yeah your man's a boss Kids sayin he's a myth like Santa Claus I got the, tools to provide with Either you ride or collide with my clique or choose a side to hide with Motive the live that's paid my dues, won't settle for sh** Nuttin to prove, none of these dudes on the level I spit sh**'s funny, I'm 'bout money but a beast on tracks So watch y'all mouth, when y'all speak on wax Cause beef with Ap, n***a then them heats gon' clap Believe the facts cause I'll greet your whole, team with gats Give a f**, if you old school rap or new crews They don't spit sick, that's sh**! You're doo-doo f** all the talk son, the actin is done Come to your show, after you flow only thing clappin is guns [Hook] [Outro: Big Hoot] Yo, this the hot sh** kid It's your boy Big Hoot A.M.E., Demigodz We controllin it right now Apathy smackin motherf**ers up And that Motive, bangin you out Emilio, knockin you out D.R. n***a, what? What n***a? f** you b**h! {*echoes*}