O'Doyle Rules

[Intro - Apathy:] We got Diabolic, Apathy, Paradime, Joe Scudda, Rob Kelly, Ryu, Mac Lethal Happy St. Patty’s Day bitch [Verse 1:Diabolic] I don’t need a spot to crash, give me some twat to smash With the atomic mass, of Nicky Minaj’s ass I’m tipsy, mixing whiskey and vodka trashed And the weed in Bolic’s stash is like breathing toxic gas My life’s a graphic novel, about the average hostile kid Who’d snap and twist your cap like tap the bottle So grab your Bible and pray that God listens If not the plot thickens, time bomb, clock ticking [Verse 2:Apathy] I ain’t crawling in this pub, Ap is on some new shit Beat you with this pool stick till it’s a million toothpicks Shit I spit on my CDs to crush you To come back to life you’d need E.T. to touch you My brass knuckles leave massive blood puddles Fucking everyday struggle, my people survive the troubles Cock back the mic, then knock back a pint No cop, gats, or fights could stop Ap tonight [Verse 3:Paradime] It’s the rap Chuck Sheene, bars crack to the fiends And I can barely see the way I lap up beam Bring the kind of heat to make a mac-truck lean So it’s bad luck everytime the fat fuck speak You come around the D and try and act tough please We got that clack clack blah, to make ya can’t can’t breathe So I suggest you slide my guy Before these Irish eyes show you my violent side [Verse 4:Joe Scudda] I’m so damn proud of who I am, just tell ‘em let the flag fly He don’t like it, then fuck ‘em, let the fag die Be afraid whenever this gettin’ played A 100 mothafuckas with me but this ain’t a parade No, I’m just a menace on the Guinness We up disturbing the tenants, if you with me brotha what up I take a shot for my pops, God bless Show love to the fam, and the rest ‘em shut up [Verse 5:Rob Kelly] Nobody make fight rap quite like Rob Kell did it Sex with Rihanna, it’s okay she like the smell of it Hit her with a whip and a chain Been rappin’ for years, barely have a whip and a chain Sick of the game, all these fucking spitters are lames So I spit in their face, a no name spitting the same Sick in the brain, so I might bash you with an uppercut No "I" in team, but there’s a "U" in you fucking cunts [Verse 6:Ryu] Okay I get it, yeah I drink a lot of Guinness Alcoholic, I’m a mixture of XZIBIT and Michael Collins Revolution, we bringing all the troops in The first illegal aliens, they called us all mutants Can still see the scars, bumps, and the bruises I’m living proof when they say Patty is a nuisance Used to get the nooses, now we rolling ruthless Green and gold six-four chucking up the deuces [Verse 7:Mac Lethal] It’s the St. Pat’s clackers, A.K.A. the fake black panthers We hate back packers, especially the real ones On the mountain hiking Get your shit jacked by a 100 angry vikings Eye color lime green, beard color lit flame Hair color whiskey, heart color Sinn Fein All my brother’s insane with this In that gin bar (speaking Irish), switch languages "O’ Doyle Rules" "Thanks a lot O’ Doyle, nice meeting you"