Artist: Apathy
Album:  Honkey Kong
Song:   Fear Itself
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash

["Excalibur" movie snippets]
WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF? (I don't know)
Shall I tell you what's out there? (Yes please)
A beast of such power, that if you were to see it whole
and all complete in a single glance
it would burn you to cinders! (Where is it?)
It is everywhere - it is everything!
Its roar is heard in the wind
and its forked tongue strikes like bright {SOUL ASSASSINS}
{ASSASSINS} WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF?

[Apathy]
King spit it all like I'm D-O-C
Deadly on the mic, deadly G-O-D
Born in a forest, raised by the wolves
Walk amongst sheep, rockin their wool
Speakin in tongues well allow me to translate
A secret society just look at our handshakes
Hoodies on our head, dressed in all black
Symbols on our rings and a pocket full of crack
Cameras on a street corner like a camcorder
Dip quicker than a Star Trek transporter
This is life on the bottom of the barrel of the belly of the beast
pn the brutalist of blocks in the borough
In the East where I'm from, Connecticut's a wasteland
Chased by the devil keep the metal in your waist band
.. And we powerful as Kennedys
March in a single file line like centipedes
In Cape Cod to escape the commotion
Late night yacht trips, bodies in the ocean
A forty ounce full of potion
We move by full moonlight in slow motion

{"The only thing we have to fear is, fear itself" - FDR}

[Chorus]
So run for the hills (scream for help)
Ain't nuttin to fear (but fear itself)
So run for the hills (scream for help)
Ain't nuttin to fear (but fear itself)
(So run for the hills motherfucker) {"fear itself"} {*4X*}

[Apathy]
We on that cracker-ass shit, hoods and bank robbers
Switchin up kicks quicker than Mr. Rogers
Sweater on my back, dressed like a Senator
I'm Chris Hansen, about to catch a predator
Newport mansion peekin through your window
Job at a country club just for the info
Deep in the woods in a circle like a pagan
A young caucasian studyin Ronald Reagan
So we speak Latin fluently
Drink Olde E cause I love it what it do to me
Fuck around, get a beat down brutally
I'm like Judas, I'll stab you for jewelery
O.G., ain't a damn thing new to me
Pharaohe with a harem of hoes who love nudity
Rhymes designed in barbarian time
You check my crops, it's all alien signs
Belt buckle with the Masonic mad black
Starter Raider jacket an addict to witchcraft
I'm the uzi, carryin, groupie, buryin
Pass passwords to a secret librarian (shhhh)
Access to the Vatican scriptures
We posin for pictures with fingers on triggers
and candle in cyphers, we tunnel under Rikers
To break out my brothers and them outlaw bikers
We the righteous

[Chorus] - minus first few words

{*shoutouts and ad libs for the next minute*}