[Verse 1: Apathy]

Live from the eye of the storm

I transform

Shoot up the dance floor

Make your whores' pants warm

This is madness

Memoir the thoughts of a savage

Who packs automatics in Louis Vuitton baggage

I bash shit bloody a bloody ya whole rap clique

And jump outta Jabba the Hutts barge with a back flip

Bastion a never ending story on a dragon

I'm flying down the block with timbs and pants sagging

A catalog that will leave your ghostwriter dead

'Cause I stay on fire like Ghost Rider's head

Keep the toast by the bed

With supplies of meds

In a standoff with dreads and wise guys and feds

Okay, maybe I just play too much Xbox

Clash your competition like Yankees and Red Sox

I love when hoes call me big poppa

Sticking my dick in ‘em, inflicting 'em with stigmata

[Hook X2]

There's no such thing, as too much hoes

Too much weed, or too much doe

'Cause all I do is fuck, get high and get mine

All I do is fuck, get high and get mine

[Verse 2: Spit Gemz]

Night stalker

Cool as a white walker

Might dead the buy bread and slide for the side offer

Live author

Talk down to ya high enforcer

When I die, you tell 'em capture this look in my eye in portraits

I rise, my return (is) designed to apply torture

To live corpses of the side talkers operated, carnivore

With a carnival of monsters I created

A king maker who's regicidal

My regimen reckless

Unrecognizable, unregistered rifle on blast

Catch these clips, the skit's viral

Mind detect Mind, mine detects mines

I step aside 'em and

Address my rivals

I'll send'em something they can sign for

Showing that your rhymes suck

Is exactly why I signed up

Line 'em up

Who the next to get doja'd

Get folded

I'll put your heels on the back of your shoulders

Boulders, smash skully's (Scully) like a regular Mulder

It's over..

[Hook X2]

There's no such thing, as too much hoes

Too much weed, or too much doe

'Cause all I do is fuck, get high and get mine

All I do is fuck, get high and get mine

[Verse 3: Nutso]

Yeah

Umbilical cord snapper

Giving life to rappers

Pounds at the left hand

Fuckboys wearing pampers

I hop out the hamper like honey I'm home

With your favorite robe on and put the crone to her dome

Dominican Republic, a presidential debater

Drug smuggler cartel the boy motivator

Playing raze and tag four corners elevators

Selling to him piece on stage, mic slayer

Rolling Stone rock star, eight balls, Bloody Marys

Bitches powder their nose, giving me head in taxis

Welcome to the Nutso show

Where fakes get exposed

Head chopped off, brain splattered to the front row

Call me Nutstigliano

I put my stigmata in a big butt stink Italiana

Five star amada, until mañana

[?] no injections, natural nauticas

[Hook X2]

There's no such thing, as too much hoes

Too much weed, or too much doe

'Cause all I do is fuck, get high and get mine

All I do is fuck, get high and get mine

[Outro]

I've shaken hands with many devils in the industry

Devils in the industry

Devils in the industry