atpm - aftertone lyrics
[verse 1: p mills]
i know i’m going platinum, cause i’m sh-ttin’ out diamonds
making compet-tors scared spineless, runnin’ like cowards
crush em’ like flowers, with super saiyan powers
go ahead and bite, i’m sour make your tongue dry
and your cheeks water i think it’s gettin’ hotter in this b-tch
f-ck her so good, now that i’m more than a glitch
now every time i speak the f-cking radar blips
f-ck a c-ck, i’m f-ckin’ with fists out on the block
they say listen to this these boys sound so crisp
makin’ other rappers sound like they rhyming with lisps
now how about that sh-t, who would’ve knew?
i did, and still do, so f-ck you truth to the absolute
hip-hop is on my brain, you can call it head wrap
besides doing it for the fame, ability and money is where it’s at
not about white, not about black or any skin color in between that
everybody got a story to tell, we just do it better than most
oh well, that’s just how sh-t floats but whatever floats your boat don’t cross my red hairs you won’t have time to be scared
so tone i think it’s time to show these impostors
what they really are blue waffle v-g-n-s
ya’ll bulls in a china shop, clumsy as f-ck
messin’ your own beats up, ya’ll lil’ pups we the big dogs
so suck on daddy’s nuts the spots are fillin’ up
there won’t be nothing for you vultures to clean up
sharp bars, like a razor cut, so clean, you couldn’t sew it shut
[verse 2: aftertone]
turnin’ emcees to liquid, yo i’m always sick with it
when i spit it, i’m a full blown sickness making compet-tors quit it
as they sh-t their briefs, let me make this brief
my swords back in its sheathe
i’m done cuttin’ beef, i can’t chew with such rotten t–th
i’m always swallowin’ toxins, better than the nonsense
y’all been talkin’, i’m stalkin’ so raw, you’d swear i’m another hopsin, i’m stoppin, generic?
rap’s embedded in my head and genetics so divine, this pen couldn’t write it i wrote it through spirit
you’ve been through h-ll? well i have lived there
bringin’ it right to ya, there’s no more forgiveness in the air
i k!lled milenko, stole his wand and turned my plastic rings gold
got buried in a sinkhole, oh i know i’m an -ssh0l-, d-ssota
better just stop with the sh-t they’re pullin’
their pusy rhymes are swollen, they couldn’t keep up with the bombs me and p mills are throwin’
hail mary b-tches i hate em’ and i don’t even know em’
thought we told ya on golden gun
dakota’s a battlefield son
anyone can get slaughtered in the bas-m-nt
don’t look so fragile hoes, it’s only death your facin’
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