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Artist: Apocalipps
Album:  The Get Right
Song:   World War 3
Typed by: King Kane

[Intro: Apocalipps]
At ease motherfuckas, DJ Storm
Another fuckin Mex Creation
Apocalipps, World War 3, let's move 'en on 'em
Let's go, let's go, yo, yo

[Chorus: Apocalipps]
I did it for the love of cash, around, that's why
Trafficking across the Verrazano, coke and the marijuana
Alright, tell me, what the fuck, it's gonna be
Apocalipps y'all, World War 3

Yo, for this cash route I leave you assed out, guns'll blast out
I run up on your club, and mashed out, and leave you smashed out
I'm not a thug, I'm a nigga with a attitude
With a nine beretta, that can lift you off the latitude
I'm representing my people that came before me
Ya ain't been to Vietnam, but ya still telling war stories
You think I'm sex, you tryna stand next to me
But I stick pussies, eat pussies and wet pussies
You all pussies, tryin to front on the Stat
My hometown is called "Leave Ya Ass Flat", I rep that
Here's some advice: don't try to be like Pac
If you ain't gon' wild out and bust off at the cops
And I don't care if they don't play this shit on Hot 97
Cause niggas play my shit, while loading Mac-11's
They play this, on them corners where they hustle 'em bricks
Near that green dumps and that smell like piss
I got worldwide connects that can leave you with maggots
I just two-wayed Saddam, he said Bush is a faggot
You wouldn't fight for your man or die for your fam
Now all over sudden you got bites and you ridin for Uncle Sam
Shit I'm a-head of my time, I body your rhymes
And be back up north eating calamaris with Shyne
And I can kill your whole crew with one rhyme (one)
My brain got skidmarks, I got a lot of shit on my mind
And most y'all dudes is overrated, fuck y'all lames
I'm first round of this rap shit, Lipps is LeBron James
Let's say, if you ever try to flip on me
Always keep in mind I keep an extra clip on me
Like a clip in my sock, clip on my waist, clip in my back pocket
Clip inside my black Avi, inside right pocket
Don't ever call my bluff like I won't cock it
Cause the toast I plug you with more volts than light sockets
Y'all still shootin' Washington Bullets, we shooting Houston Rockets
It's too real for your optics, aight, let's change the topic
You ain't thorough cuz your bars is felt
I'm trying to expose your colors, before the cards is dealt
Like Ace of Spades, I got too much Heart, deuce of Diamonds
Bust these guns off and make you lose them diamonds
I know ya'll don't like me, ya'll know these Shaolin cats is sheisty
But they quick to flip a nigga like a red Italian icey
And scrape ya back with the stick, whose packing like this?
This is a warning, everybody move back when I flip

[Outro: Apocalipps]
DJ Storm, bombing all you muthafuckas
World War 3, Apocalipps
Ruthless Bastardz, let's go
Let's move on 'em, send the troops in
Send 'em through there, muthafuckas get on the war
Throw the fucking grenade at these muthafuckas, let's go, let's go
Apocalipps, let's go, Staten Island, word up, Queens
The fuck where ya'll at, Iraq, let's go
Bosnia, fuck that, Kuwait, word up, niggas in Coney Island
Let's go, let's do shit, New York, DJ Storm
Another fuckin Mex Creation
Everybody don't smoke dust from Staten Island, man
Just to let ya'll know that, fuck is wrong with ya'll niggas, man
My pockets looking like Barney, nigga, shit's is purple
Fuck is wrong with ya'll niggas, man, you heard?
Put that good shit in the air, nigga
That shit don't smell right, don't light that shit in my circumference