Apache - Get Ya Weight Up lyrics

[Chorus] A-P-A-C-H-E, GET YA WEIGHT UP!! GET YA WEIGHT UP!! [Apache] To all you fictional fake f*gs, frauds and fronts I'm here to get puffed and rip sh** and I'm all out of Philly blunts Step up, step up - who's starvin for static? That's like playin Russian Roulette with an automatic Full grown, the last kid I did tried to hold his own Rushed his crib, smacked his b**h, held him hostage in his own home f**ed up, goodbye - somebody sing his a** a lullaby Tried for juice, but got a noose for a necktie Black man, black a** and black heart Use force, cut up his corpse, dispose of his body parts To me fun is pullin a gun in a fair fight I'm the hype type, my mic is my peace pipe My tomahawk talks, you sink like a battleship f** a bow and arrow, pa** me the Tec and 2 clips Gimme some comp to stomp, f** the glory Come witness more smoke and more bodies than a crematory You defeat me, beat me, on the contrary I'll knock out your fronts and sell 'em to the tooth fairy Ask the last kid who said I couldn't rock I scalped his a**, and left his head in his mailbox [Chorus] - 2X [Apache] I speak clear so you can hear, that's what I'm all about So cut that n**idy n**idy naggedy bullsh** out Monkey see, monkey do, time to face the facts One or two, only a few get props for that Give the next man a face or neck brace to start Took his girl, took his manhood and took his heart Give him time to rhyme, then dump him in a ditch Takin gangsters and makin 'em my "Gangsta b**h" Where's the conflict, trouble's comin and won't fail You think your weight's up? Then step on a sk** scale You're too thin to win before I begin to blast Your dialogue s**s, your lyrics are light in the a** Me and mines remain fine and in mint condition They get rougher, yours suffer from malnutrition Stop sleepin on the job slob, I advise Dream about kickin my a**, wake up and apologize I'm a contender, while you plot and plan Got speed and a lead like the Gingerbread Man Bring your best buck, watch 'em get stuck up Look for safety, I'm rigged to blow the f** up [Chorus] - 2X [Apache] f** it who's got dice; cee-lo I got the bankhead the bank's a bullet Lose with the Tec to your teeth, hold the trigger then pull it With the gift I come swift with a straight arch Competition I leave 'em stiffer than spray starch Got a high strung tongue, can you catch it or match it Those who tried died by the hatchet I play to win friend, your game I aim for the chin Rap is a hobby, I kick ASS for a livin So what you get radio play and your record sold And you were told your sh** just might go gold When I step up and strike, be prepared to duck I'm one deep, I don't sleep and don't give a f** I'm a hood from the hood, better yet instead It might be safer for you if you covered your head If you win then I'll begin to bruise ya f** that, I'm goin out cause I'm a sore loser When I roll up to stick-up I got'cha Gimme mine, pay me or pay the doctor Don't f** with a man 'til you're full grown Cause I'd hate to dislocate your a** bone [Chorus] - 2X