I Am That - Freak Tha Monsta, Apathy

This shit is light work!

It’s time to stack the bar on 'em

You know

Hey yo, Kwest talk to 'em

Come on

You’re lightweight, and only force me to cause casualties

Call me the specialist, professor at this rap science

Vocal streetsweeper, buck shots through the speakers

You’re searching for signs of the end, well I am that

You’re light weight, it only force me to cause casualties

Call me the specialist, professor at this rap science

My city never sleeps

You’re searching for signs of the end, well I am that

Peep the way we play it

Y’all start, we finish

Car bombing, no Guinness

Then we go about our business

Yapping like you acting wild

The goonies hanging out the back Denal'

Will pat you down and leave you au naturale

Shoulda known by now that we wreck it

Cool, calm, collected

Till y’all disrespect it

Temperament of like an ill rotti

Strictly for the thrill

I’ll probably leave a chilled body

Lifted off my skills

Oddly enough, they’re fronting like their pockets’ll bust

And that a homi’s nothing 'til they’re

Getting robbed for their bucks

Could give a frruck about your knolly

Of that molly and puff

Stop with the fuss

Come on, your shitty topics get flushed

Between the lines is where we live

Them evil kids are on the eve of sneaking in

And tweaking off the leaf and gin

Another move and dude, it’s checkmate

So let me set the rec straight

Or catch some fucking holes up in your chest plate

I’m the artful dodger, villain and rogue scholar

Rappers trying to pose like Vogue should not bother

The author, poet and father of King Arthur

The archer, harder at work than a Amish farmer

The farther, the further the earth and the sun circle

A ceiling inside a circular ship, the soul burglar

Bird in the hand

Drive-by music for fans

Only a few will understand

If you get it, you’re the man

Ap’s highly in demand

My brain scans set off red flags

Like rape vans at lemonade stands

I just bought a pair of Ray Bans

For like eight-grand

'Cause I’m Cyclopse

My eyes turn towns to wastelands

Y’all are fragile, trying to shake hands with an ape man

Take damage

Metacarpals wrapped in an Ace bandage

I’m the Bermuda Triangle where planes vanish

I paint canvases with strange, deranged antics

I walk a rugged path

Rittled with skeletons and tons of ash

My ears polluted with this music 'bout your lumps of cash

These thoughts of bloody baths

Will pass, so I just shrug and laugh

And grab the pad and script some shit

To makes you jump and spaz

Enough’s enough we out the rough

Swinging them blades of justice

Coming directly for your neck

And yes, I shaved the cuspids

Engrave the muskets

So y’all suckers really get the point

And spark the revolution before you can lift the joint

My words and actions

Swerving past you, over top your head

We out for props and cred

It’s what gets done, and not what’s said

Shit, treat your facial like some rare wax

Scuff the Air Max

Will get you blown just like an air sax

Face the facts or catch a rude awakening

My crew’s basically breaking in your favorite station

So my tapes could spin

Spitting in the face of sin 'til we’re dead and gone

Repping the F dot click, so get your letters on