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Artist: Apocalipps f/ Iron Mic
Album:  Smokefest
Song:   DJ Kayslay Freestyle
Typed by: Cno Evil

I went from, music in jail, to music by mail
My tape is 10.99, you'll never catch it on sale
I could of been home, I should of made my board in '99
But I spit a tear three rhyme, that got me lost in good time
And messed up my date, but gem stars could mess up your face
Too much baking soda in your grams, to mess up the cake
But that's a different story, so what's the issue right now
Ya'll dudes never had no lights, while I'm trying pull they lights out
I spit that hollow point stuff that'll touch your brain
Yo, if you corny when this beat drop, tuck your chain
I hate you fake pretty dudes, trynna play Don Juan
I got some three eighty shells, that storm through your Sean John
That kill your dress code, and rip your Ecko sweater in half
The gun'll leave yo, splashed, when the echoing blast
I heard of you cats, yo, I wanna murder you cats
Yo, Apocalipps, Iron Mic

[Iron Mic]
My gun is busting, my razor is cutting, ya'll dudes is fronting
We lay you down, homey, it's nothing
My fists is swinging, my knife is stabbing, my feet is stomping
It's Ruthless, from Staten Island to Compton
Bang like a marksmen, hit your apartment
Don't even light it up, unless it's haze or the chocolate
Homey, it's Iron, I bang for my gang, change up your offense
Run for cover when the burner is sparking
All we trynna do is lock it down, and finish up what we started
Sign with the Wu, but soon after departed
I think they found out, what we already, that we was the hardest
But it don't matter, we gon' shine regardless
Cuz I'm now a partner with Pop Ya Head Off Records, plus I'm an artist
Plus I'm starving, plus my flow is retarted
Now I want you to add that, up, like you was in college
And realize them other rappers is garbage

Yeah, when the fifth in my hand
Cuz it body you and leave you three fifths of a man
Your body's one whole, just listen for a minute, you'll learn
The gun could be break you like a fraction reduce to lowest terms
Stupid, negotiate and let's speak of a fee
I don't freestyle, cuz I don't spit nothing for free
I'm just a hustler on wax, I like doubling stacks
And while I'm laying down my vocals, duke, I'm cutting up wraps
You done with that pack? I need every dollar and cent
You work hard within a month, you push Impala with tents
And uh, I need this, I'm trynna get this cheese quick
The gun got my armpits all sweaty, from doing speed sticks
And I'mma tell you once to open the safe
Cuz I'm quick to a little hold up like wait
Or, I can let this slug open your face
And get your ripped and skinny dipped and found floating in lakes
I got the dogs that bark loud that can twist your physique
I'm sending drama, klik ga bow, and there's your receipt
Before you jump out your window, you should know me pa
This rap game is like a life bid, with no C.R.
And no cigar, just a little weed in the jar
They should be dead before this drop, you better hope we are
O.D., ya'll cop this and take it to vein
My lyrics penetrate that send shh to your brain
My moms had dreams, she always said one day I'd be rich
Cuz everytime I hit the streets, I kept stepping in shh
I'm repping this, the chick, I'm the best when I lick
And if you don't give blowjobs, you disrespecting the
I got the same aura, I still sell on the same corner
And I'm hotter than that chick that let dudes run trains on her
I'm trying to get alotta, section eight
The church hate me cuz I stole from the collection plate
But let that wait, you owe me money, get that straight
Your food is your ready on the plate, and you can get that eight, Slay