Curt Cazal - Y'all Ain't Good Enough lyrics

[Intro: Apathy (Celph Titled)] Ya see...(What's cracka-latin'?) There's one thing you need to understand (And what's that?) Demigodz (Uh-huh)...are the most prestigious (Oh, no question) When Apathy approaches the throne (Word up, yeah) All hail Caesar (You heard?) (Curt Cazal on the motherf**in' track) (Apathetic and Celph Titled, we gon' do it like this) [Hook: Celph Titled] Y'all n***as wanna be thugs with nothin' to say? (Y'all ain't good enough) We takin' ya pay (Y'all ain't good enough) Get outta my way (Y'all ain't good enough) Y'all n***as wanna be pimps, can't get no a**? (Y'all ain't good enough) Your trick and your cash (Y'all ain't good enough) We movin' in fast (Y'all ain't good enough) [Verse 1: Apathy] I'm liver than Thai weed for freaks, drive high speed through streets I could freestyle for weeks if they bangin' the beats I never sweat the opposition, my position is locked Different chickens are switchin' positions when lickin' the co*k When hittin' skirts, I don't even need to drop a written verse Freestyle and have her legs open wide like givin' birth Don't let me start, cause I'll finish 'em off Like you tried to play Tiger Woods in miniature golf Admit it, you lost, the minute you crossed the first tee Verse me? Rappers, the strength of Hercules couldn't hurt me Y'all better dress in a Kevlar suit Cause my clips make more hits than Neptunes' group And I spit gasoline, so the booth'll get doused Then ignited from the flames in the roof of my mouth When I write, it's like the brainwaves shoot to get out When you bite, I take aim like you're lootin' my house [Hook] [Verse 2: Celph Titled] It ain't a motherf**a rappin' like this, clappin' the fifth They'll put your back in a twist and only empty half of the clip I spit but really never got nothin' to say Every verse consist of curse words and plenty of gun spray But I don't give a f**, this is how I write rap flows You probably listen to Common and rock them tight-a** clothes Try to change your image, you dudes be followin' hard sh** While we bring more funk than Bootsy Collins' armpits We on some sh**, throwin' banquets at $10,000 a plate Your girl's been over for hours, it's late Time to...take her home, so we skate from the Chrome...Depot In high school, they used to call me Chico Back in '93, I was shakin' parties up Lickin' off uzi clips in the air Puttin' holes in the ozone layer - playa Gangsta you're not, let me discuss I think with my dick, so I'm always ready to bust [Hook] [Verse 3: Apathy] You're a waste of air; the kick, the ba**, the snare, your face, your hair I'mma tear apart whatever God placed you there Prepare to have your domepiece spinnin' around I'm pinnin' you down, face first, chin to the ground I'm the reason why the cops walk the blocks with Glocks Why the sun's hot and why your tongue locks when beats drop The reason for the season change, the breezes, the rain Hurricanes tearin' brains outta radar's range Strange, eerie sounds under beds at night Make heads spread with mics like the legs of dykes I'm the prototype for Kawasaki motorbikes Nagasaki blowin' mics, kamikaze sippin' saki Nobody can stop me on my path of destruction You rappers get s**ed in and crushed in a ma**ive abduction You said you're large but you couldn't get a small part In a commercial for Wal-Mart pushin' mall carts [Hook]