Artist: Apocalipps
Album:  DJ Storm - G-Unit vs. Ruthless Bastardz
Song:   5 Finger Discount
Typed By: pneumatic

[Intro: DJ Storm]
All the boosters get ya Jan Sports ready,
Put your gear in your backpacks, Load em up,
Apocalipps, Five finger, Discount, Let's ride,
DJ Storm, Strictly for my boosters,
State bridge, I'm tryna tell ya.

[Apocalipps]
Uh, Check it, If you aint up on game,
Snatchin alarms off the stores and stealin clothes is my thing,
I get all of my gear, At a five finger discount,
I smoke a blunt and go to the mall and straight flip out,
Fifty motherfuckers, Latinos and Blacks,
They see us on the cameras and scream the niggers are back,
The Polo sections givin it, With the sweaters and slacks,
And fuck takin one or two man, I'm jettin with rats,
I'm snatchin Prada, Sean John shit, Fubu and Gucci,
I even got a poogie the same color as dookie,
So when I rock it, I get shit on my block,
The only rapper on that's sellin stolen shit out the drops,
Security don't chase me, They know better I'm live,
Cause I got Guess jeans for fifty, Pelle leathers for five,
I'm somethin different, Yeah not even willies can test,
I go in Macy's butt naked then I leave fully dressed,
These bitches hate me, They know better I'm dirt,
Cause right after I hit the skins I'm tryna sell her a shirt,
My business is first, Pleasure is last, That's my motto,
When I'm poppin off alarms you poppin Crystal bottles,
When I was locked up they said, Lipps don't fuck with that monkey,
Cause I'll rob you for your clothes and sell they shits to my bunky,
And a, I'ma stay a jig son of a bitch,
You can shop but I aint payin for none of that shit, It's called.

[Chorus: Apocalipps]
Fiiiivvvveeee, Word up, Word up, Word up, Word up,
Five finger discount, Takin off racks,
I'm used ta, Rollin with boostas, Come on,
Fiiiivvvveeee, Word up, Word up, Word up, Word up,
Five finger discount, Takin off racks,
I'm used ta, Rollin with boostas.

[Apocalipps]
Yo, This verse is for my boostin bitches,
Illy bags and they don't give a fuck, Yall my Ruthless bitches,
The type of chick that I can take in the mall, She like my decoy,
She's so thick you check in her ass, That's how I G off,
Damn, Nice job, We flossin honey,
I snatched a Roca Wear coat right off the dummy,
Now, Even though I'm the best emcee,
I'm signin autographs and stealin outta SMD's,
I straight bendin outta Jimmy Jazz,
Five fur coats, I'm wanted up in Saks Fifth Ave,
The NBA store, I hit em with the same trick,
And leave with the same jersey Mike wore in game six,
It's the same shit different shirt, Sold those outfits,
We like the low lies whillin in the Polo outlets,
Don't let me in your house, Shit that's probably better,
I even caught my man Tyreek for his Ducati sweater,
My man Marlon keep his dick in the dirt,
So I ran up in his closet and I caught him for his Sycamore shirts,
And that's a damn shame I ran off,
And I'ma steal until the cops catch my ass or they cut my fuckin heads off,
And I'ma stay a jig son of a bitch,
You can shop but I aint payin for none of that shit, It's called.

[Chorus]

[Outro w/ Chorus in background: Apocalipps]
This is for all my boostin niggas man, All my boostin bitches,
All them hustlers, Sellin shit with alarms still on it and all that,
Price tags, Hahaha.

(The opinions voiced in this drop are not necessarliy that of Hot 97,
Don't go boostin, It's crazy.)