Deep Cover Freestyle

[Intro] [Apathy talking]: Apathy. Yo Big Mike man, these dudes are rapping more pussy by the second. All this talk about gwap gotta stop. Y'all ain't got none anyway [Verse]: You know your boy Ap sick spit more flows and raps Than hoes got tats on they tits and lower backs Y'all are phoney criminals That feel they so real, less cases than the end of Deal Or No Deal I'ma earn my stripes when I work with Mike So this verse I write can make the Earth ignite Got a gun made special so led can spray three ways And 187 the Feds who raid DJs Ap's your boy but I'm viewed as the man Me and Mike do it big but we huge in Japan Not Yakuza but the crews think Apathy's gangsta Get the doe, blow the show with my Japanese geishas See the tattoo on my arm when I slap you with my palm I'll kidnap you and your mom and attach you to a bomb When I rap they say I'm radical but rapping don't do it I can clap you in the clavicle to classical music A fanatical Nautica addict back in '94 Putting bodies in the ground as deep as a dinosaur Globe trotter, make your flow stop quicker than heart failure Cause fans think I'm awesome from Austin to Australia My rep grows bigger, how you rep is repetative There's a rapper more connected in Connecticut Negative I'm one of the best fill up my lungs in my chest And mutter under my breath like my tongue is possessed Miles underneath the Earth, I can call Hell home So it doesn't even roam when I'm on cell phones Keep the crucifix close to you When I spit it's a quotable Rock my Uptowns once, all my kicks are disposable I could quickly dispose of you Get a bomb to explode in you I be standing right over you What the fuck am I supposed to do? The quicker picker upper Pick your burner up quicker I murder quicker than a click cause my all my verses are sicker The sickest I can pick you off with a pistol in my peripheral Riff with you over a bitch and I bring out the bitch in you Blow you to bits, a pink mist mostly invisible Kinda like that movie, an eagle can make me invincible I rap like a ritual, getting rich by the syllable Bungee jump out the womb and cut my own umbilical Billions of flows composed, I be killing my foes You got a new style? Shit I got a million of those