| A mass murderer, black magic practitioner
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| Ap is the rap listener’s crack distributor
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| A wizard with wise words
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| Magician with fly birds
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| I’ll saw a bitch in half, if she’s getting on my nerves
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| So observe the dirty, rotten, son of a cesspool
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| I piss plutonium and my heart pumps jet fuel
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| Too cool for school, shoot it up like Virginia Tech
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| Unless police intercept my plots on the Internet
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| That last line was fucked up, so homie don’t laugh
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| I’m cold blooded, apathetic as a sociopath
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| A lot of jealous motherfuckers like, «I hope he don’t last»
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| I’m in Japan counting Yen, doing Tokyo math
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| My shit’s crack, spit raps, and you swear you got bitch slapped
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| Big Mike sell my shit, til it’s platinum on mixed rap
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| I’ll push ya whole clique back, with one little click-clack
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| If we abduct ya grandmom, is that still kidnap?
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| You talk about ya llamas, and ya strapped with the gat cocked
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| The only time you ever held a Mac was a laptop
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| I stay around weed heads who constantly hit blunts
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| And burn it down more than bitches during the Witch Hunts
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| Instead of dropping classics and making sure shit pumps
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| You drop a bullshit mixtape every 6 months
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| The force of my flow’s strong, hard as a photon
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| The rhyme gets rougher as the rhyme goes on
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| And on and on and on, it don’t stop
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| Demigodz squad always gon' be at the top
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| Shoutout to Open Mic, Steve Cormier, John Childs aka Voodoo, Derrick Marsh, Yeah
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| Old school got my Raiders cap
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| Nothing you could say to Ap
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| Sadomasochistic, it hurts how hot I make the track
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| Kneel down and praise the king
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| A demon with angel wings
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| Tattoo my flesh with ink and scorpion stings
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| I’m trying to get it through ya head
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| You could fill me up with lead
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| I’ll chill in heaven half an hour before the Devil knows I’m dead
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| Send out the memo, I been killing it since my demo
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| The fact that I’m a Demigod is not coincidental
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| Half human, half almighty
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| Kicks are all Nike’s
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| I’m not the one to fuck with, if you want, pshh alrighty
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| Here it goes, melting sub woofers in ya stereos
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| A dungeon dragon like Busta Rhymes on Scenario
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| Off the top, motherfuckers better call the cops
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| I’ll come through like Sasquatch and squash ya blocks
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| I block telepathic thoughts when they try to read my mind
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| The way I rhyme «rap» just got re-defined
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| Whenever I tear the mic
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| It’s easy as Eric Wright
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| Ya feeding on my paragraphs, you rappers are parasites
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| I’m paralyzing crowds, y’all are typing like paralegals
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| Rolling like Noah in a boat with a pair of eagles
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| Demigodz a pack of pits, y’all are a pair of beagles
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| I’ll beat ya bitches beaver up, though the ho’s barely legal
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| I rep DGZ down to my last proton
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| The rhyme get’s rougher, as the rhyme goes on
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| A demigod is a half-human, half-god
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| We got that name because back in 1992, Open Mic said this line right here in
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| one of his rhymes
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| It’s the land of the rhymes, and I’m a Demigod
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| Land of the rhymes, and I’m a Demigod
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| Land of the rhymes, and I’m a Demigod
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| I’m Zeus in the booth, spitting lightening rods
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| Motherfucker
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| Shoutout to everybody who’s been there since the beginning
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| Dwayne Anderson, Louie Montalvo, Spliffmatic, Tony Louscher
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| It’s the mayday, DJ E-LO, Tito and Quran, Naptron, Eternia, K-Squared,
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| White Harlem, a lot of people I’m forgettin'
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| Yeah, Demigodz
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| Album is on its way right now
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| Demigodz is back
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| Yeah, Apathy, Teddy Roxpin |