DJ Next [Nextclusive Barbeque Sauce Freestyle] lyrics

[Intro:]
Yo, DJ. Who the f*ck is next?

Yea, Apathy of the Demigodz, my di*k's bigger than yours motherf*cker! (Yea, motherf*cker) Straight outta Compton motherf*cker. I'll f*ckin'... (yo) shove a can of f*ckin' beef stew up your ass and put a can opener down your throat an open that sh*t b*tch. I ain't f*ckin' wit y'all. Yo, Apathy of the Demigodz, uh. DJ Next. What the f*ck y'all want? Yo, yo, yo

[Verse 1: Apathy]
My style's enormous, knock the planet off it's balanced orbit
I'm takin' out the trash like I get allowance for it
My brain's processin' data, deep knowledge analyst
Gettin' paid like liquor stores on college campuses
Brain cells swell like the flames hell contains
My sh*t's goin' gold like Nintendo Zelda games
If y'all try to step to me I'm lookin at you skeptically
You probably won't get far like a retard on Jeopardy
You want to spark beef then you better call a truce
Or you'll fall of like Bishop in the last scene of Juice
And I don't give a f*ck what you're doin' to the beats
Y'all could never burn me like Lucifer at the beach
(I'm too hot) And even if I die from Glock shots
Cats won't believe I'm really dead like 2Pac
I'm hidin' out in Boston, they'll dig up my coffin
And bug when they find it's the body of Andy Kaufman

[Hook]
Have no fear, prepare for the exclusive
Have no fear, prepare for the exclusive
[Verse 2: Romen Rok]
Well it's the funky girl gettin' GQ, keepin' it cool
With that whip hit rap sh*t turnin' my lips blue
f*ck the cheeseburgers I brought the brew to the barbeque
And we ain't gonna stop drinkin' 'til the cops come through
(You and what crew?) Funkbunker Fleet, Rudolph style
With the Gray Clouds Lounge, home of the upside down smile
Keep the crowd loud like the muffler on a Harley
My favorite video game is Yars Revenge on Atari
I catch a lot of kisses, handshakes, and support
I'm creative like a kid with a box of sidewalk chalk
We cause more racket then a wooden roller coaster
MC's with chips on they shoulder get bulldozed over
Peace to DJ Next to Alius and Ap
Who never walk on stage without skrilla and dap
And to all your sour patch crappy cardboard blues
Here's a stone cold Steve Austin double-fisted f*ck you!

[Hook]
Have no fear, prepare for the exclusive
Have no fear, prepare for the exclusive

[Verse 3: Alius]
Let the cop play b*tch, Alius game sick
Call me Dr. Naismith, treat y'all to plain basics
Equation to be blazin', science of rhymin'
Forgot them platinum dreams when I heard about diamond
I'm in the zone, with every weight of my own off the dome
Rock with Ap and Romen 'til the cops come home, it gets ugly
Let the industry love me, refuse to let 'em f*ck me
Try to crack black, I snap back quicker than a bungee
I'm that Coach Tony Dungy, controllin' your Buccaneers
Like drity sl*ts and beers, I'm what's gettin' f*cked in here
I'll bust a nut in ya ear, impregnatin' your thoughts
Left alone to raise my brain child, no ounce of support
Then i'm vacatin' to spark, my verbal journals are to fertile
Gettin' gear like a gerbil before my squad has to herb you
Haters on my di*k so bad their mouths look like milk commercials
(Gulp) Y'all got milk?