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The Smackdown Lyrics by Apathy

It’s the Bootleg Muthafuckas! Vol. 1 (Mixtape)

0

[Intro: Rise]
Rise, Apathy, C-Rayz Walz, and Celph Titled

[Verse 1: Rise]
I'm so stuck up, you could see my head from 9 blocks
Keep my rhymes locked in a metal safe with time locks
Waitin' for a thief and we've been training for weeks
By shootin' pimples off a fly's cheek at 800 feet
Don't do it cause if I get all mad and pissed
You couldn't be saved if cops came with formatted discs
Access 360—no face in my camp
And when it's all said and done, I'll have my face on a stamp
I recycle old verses if I think nobody's heard it
In this rap game I'm nobody (Why?)—nobody's perfect
Once I come out, rappers are droppin' in piles
Labels'll only sign your ass if you copy my style
There's a lot of wack niggas and it's only gettin' weirder
Get your CD's for free and only use 'em as a mirror

[Bridge: Apathy]
Yo, yo, yo, check this shit

[Verse 2: Apathy]
When I be spittin' raps, rippin' wax, gats start clickin' back
Chickens act frickin' wack backstage, lickin' sacs
Suckin' nuts, fuckin' sluts up in butts, bustin' up
Jealous rappers runnin' up, but they need to toughen up
Masterin' the battlin' when batterin' your calvalry
Apathy is actually the baddest in this galaxy
Critical, the pinnacle of lyrically invincible
Your pitiful epitome of common monosyllable
Rap style's fragile—stack you in the wack pile
Nobody wants your shit like a used crack vial
Understand this and only this: I'm dissin' ya writtens
And if ya pissed we could take it up with our fists
Cause I be rippin' wack foes with wack flows new assholes
Punch out foes with flows like Glass Joes
Fast or slow, pick apart those like afros
Rip ya face up like space from black holes
I mack dips, stack chips, fuck gat clips
Ap rips phat shit when I spit rap scripts
Rockin' microphone chrome, leavin' bones broke
Y'all are played out like Tone Loc
Ap's no joke!

[Verse 3: Celph Titled]
This is history in the making—you better get your camcorder tuned
You couldn't move me driving a U-Haul through a transporter room
You half-a-quarter-doomed—to 12.5 seconds
I'm that out of order goon that'll transform to a monsoon
This Cuban nigga runs through rappers with the one-two
With my guns drew, so what the fuck you gonna do?
When I be sonning cats with my futha muckin' stunning raps
In fact, I'll fuck ya bitch in the back of the ass crack and bust a nut in that (Urgh)
You get no receipt when all sales are final
I'll leave you beside yourself like the other side of the vinyl
They call me Celph Titled cause no words describe me
I stomp through your project with the cavalry behind me
Honestly, the day ya wax is in stores taking residence
Is the day we see a female, black, homosexual president
"You talkin' shit to me?" I'll put the slug in ya face
Attach razors to my shoes so I could cut to the chase
You couldn't drop knowledge if you through an encyclopedia off a cliff
I grab my rifle, load the clip, and scratch you off my list
The illest nigga to walk the planet, how do I know this?
'Cause I got sent to Hell but they kicked me out because I froze it

[Verse 4: C-Rayz Walz]
I write rhymes on toilet tissue—lyrics tear ya ass up
You drop wack shit—the only reason you pass butt
I write dope with heroin pens—take it in vein
I scream "Uno!" just to put one in your brain
You're a dumb fuck like retarded group sex
I skip the line, then ask who's next
Cut ya ears off and asked if you heard me
Cause you're not Worthy like James without the Laker jersey
Word be I'm off the wall like an ugly portrait
Like a blind referee, I can't call it
You got asshole lips—you might as well talk shit
But you can't play me—I'm like a broke Walkman
Dungeon and Dragon flames cook ya brain
I diss all wack rappers cause y'all look the same
Ace Lover would say, "Oh, hell no!"
I shoot you in the foot just to give you shell toes
I damage ya, take ya stamina
Give you dynamite implants—you'll have explosive character
Stab you in ya left eye—make you see how I write/right
You pussy—don't sleep on me without ya night light
Fuck the bedbugs—I don't want ya chick to bite
I'm the only Superman that smokes Kryptonite
I wiled on tracks and make wack rappers stop
You couldn't cum/come on time if you jerked off in front of clocks
Faggot Boy!
Credits

About “The Smackdown” by Apathy

Read the complete lyrics to "The Smackdown" by Apathy from the album "It’s the Bootleg Muthafuckas! Vol. 1 (Mixtape)". On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Posse Cut, Hip-Hop, Rap.

"The Smackdown" is performed by Apathy. from the album "It’s the Bootleg Muthafuckas! Vol. 1 (Mixtape)" This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL. Music lyrics help listeners connect with emotion, narrative, and rhythm in a track. Whether you are learning English, researching a favorite chorus, or preparing for karaoke, having accurate line breaks and section labels (verse, chorus, bridge) makes the experience easier. We link to the official artist profile on Lyrks where available, including biography snippets, top songs, and chart placements when we have that data. If you enjoy "The Smackdown", explore more songs by Apathy using the links below. Chart and trending pages on Lyrks highlight what listeners are searching for this week. For copyright or correction requests, see our DMCA and contact pages.

View all songs and biography for Apathy · Trending lyrics · Billboard Hot 100

Frequently asked questions

"The Smackdown" is credited to Apathy. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.

"The Smackdown" appears on "It’s the Bootleg Muthafuckas! Vol. 1 (Mixtape)".

Visit the Apathy artist page at /artist/apathy for biography, popular tracks, and links to more lyric pages.


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