| Yeah, aotp |
| Lost Cauze, Vinnie Paz, Planetary, Warchild we love you nigga |
| (Aotp they know we be O N T O P) King Syze, Apathy, Celph Titled |
| Eso, Blacastan, Yeah |
| I can’t remember all y’all niggas names man there’s too many of y’all |
| We got a nigga in the crew named Raul, shout out Raul (Raul what up nigga!) |
| Uh Ayo y’all pussy like a Fleshlight |
| My squad is the ride or die «arf arf» dmx type |
| I be iller in my next life |
| I’m fucking Rad without the bmx bike |
| Yeah, that’s for my 80's kids there |
| And y’all walk with rat tails like an 80's kids hair |
| I smoke wax and eat pot brownies |
| And will still crush and fold a grown man like Jadeveon Clowney |
| I got the pound on me Don’t get loud on me It’ll be my treat have a few rounds on me Salute, wild flute, wild fate |
| Only thing sicker than Lost Cauze is child rape |
| Puerto-rock Rambo, Long range ammo |
| Always on my toes but I don’t rock sandals |
| Uncaged animal, off the leash, awkward speech |
| Toungued off the table, is that what you call a feast? |
| Underground king, underworld got 'em under siege |
| Cold blooded killers, we make the tundra freeze |
| Flat life line, I’m off to make a million |
| Kinda hard to do without pussies catching feelings |
| I go all in, I ain’t got nothing to lose |
| Hollow points split your face, fucking up your point of view |
| Niggas acting funny, trust me, I am so amused |
| Terminate 'em On Sight, We know who is who |
| Ayo fuck a cap and gown, attack your crown, We the last around |
| Blasting that classic sound, Lock it up, latch it down |
| At the clowns, he late to the fight, trying to catch a round |
| Only way I stoop to his level is to feed my bastard hound |
| I already passed the pound, I ain’t trying to match your style |
| I ain’t trying to rescue, your a doctor crappy rapper now |
| I’m in my cabin only happy with the batch around |
| Not unlike an older Bruce Wayne, or a younger Satchel now |
| Same when he’s at the mound, if you can’t keep up we ain’t on the same |
| page/paige |
| It’s time that I sweep up Aotp there ain’t no equal, we anger people |
| Like casting Mel Gibson in a Django sequel |
| Yeah, I spit incredible |
| Your style is doa, stinking in the vestibule |
| Automatic fire attire getting rid of you |
| Shoulda just retired now they sizing up a suit for you |
| Look at you, in s***s creek, without a paddle in sight, s***s deep |
| I don’t understand that, gun in your mouth talk |
| Getting intimate with. 40 cals where’s your tought talk? |
| It fell back, guess who had to second guess |
| When you realize the main man was named Des |
| Aotp put your motherfucking heart to test |
| 25 deep nigga, roll it to your fucking rest |
| I can get retarded too, bonafide idiot |
| Fully auto in the tuck, watch how much letters spit |
| You delicate, softer than some baby thigs |
| Drag you kids underground like I’m Pennywise |
| Stoned off the reefer and the vodka got my liver fried |
| Never have to be a loser nigga if you never tried |
| Out the sludge and the slime, at the bottom of the barrel, I’m a God and a Pharaoh |
| Rap game Robert De Niro, or better yet, rap game Ron Swanson |
| My song sponsoring the lab I keep flying saucers in Holsters and harnesses, my gold never tarnishes |
| Gun powder Pharmacist, Manhattan Project on this shit |
| Getting high injecting snake venom |
| So get the fuck outta Dodge, avoid taser shots bitch I’m ducking the charge |
| Your rough rugged facade is just a mirage |
| So let’s aim for your neck make a bloody collage |
| My bread straight, no croissant, so let’s go My gun won the Cannabis cup for having the best smoke |
| Yeah, hahahha Army of the Pharaoh clique |
| (Everybody want heaven but no one wants dead) |
| Reef the Lost Cauze, Des Devious, Crypt the Warchild, The Esoteridactyl |
| Celph Titled, hahaha, We shining out here |
| You think you mob motherfucker? We the motherfucking mob, hahahha |