2013 BET Hip Hop Awards - TDE Cypher

[Intro: Kendrick Lamar] Cypher TDE Schoolboy Q, what's hatnin'? [Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q] Most of these niggas shouldn't be next to us We keep our distance from those, those acting like hoes Xanny imposed, weed in my clothes, cubics is gold Your wig'll get told, put the realest niggas Niggas, product of cap-peelers, gangbangers, and dealers Streets keep watching—"Oh, ayy..." click, boom The ghetto bird get shot down, straight to the top now They want a third strike on my background But nah, homie, put the mask on when I slide on 'em Put the cash in the safe, and here's a extra slug 'fore I shake You smoke faster than me with a eighth Or better yet, a wet break on a plate Burning your faith, all your senses covered in tape Fucking with them boys in blue Chill out before I send them rags at you You running to the cops saying, "How we do?" Saying, "It's just rap, and them lines ain't true" So I just do Q, fuck it, a ménage à two Or maybe trois, baby girl need a papa, I be her da-da Coochie spanking, give praise to Allah Get blazed in my car, with Oxymoron—Rock [Verse 2: Jay Rock] Rock got it, Rock came from rock bottom Sparked the flames, still remain as a top shotta I ain't no backpack rapper, I ain't no lyricist And if we ain't talking to you, mind your business, then Cold with it, Black Hippy, yeah, we cold niggas All the girlies love us, get a whiff of us, they bones quiver Heard some clowns throwing stones at us Holding boulders, champ Once you hear that "YAWK," watch the domes shatter It's Top Dawg, we running rap Wack rappers feline, reason why we don't run with cats Nine-double O-five-nine, where my family at Pull up in that family van, holding tools like the handyman And to be real, not with all this rapping, politicking Rapper competition, wrapped up my position 'Til I'm finished, 'til I make a couple tickets, then I'm outty On them islands with my crimeys, chilling, hide your feelings Now, can I live? Look, I gotta keep my feet on top of the dirt 'Cause everywhere I go, they like, "When you dropping some work?" Been a threat since birth The rap game's pallbearer when I'm dropping the hearse I ain't new to this, I'm true to this, industry's nightmare Red strings in my Nike Airs, yeah, the white pair I'm Jay Rock, America's most wanted My charges? Killing emcees without warning Rock! [Verse 3: Ab-Soul] Yeah, it's Ab-Soul, gimme the loot, I'm the skinny Biggie In New York City with Puffy, puffing the sticky All odds against me, still even the score Prolly why I'm always OT, on tour TDE, believe me, we want war I don't even know what piece I like most no more Two fingers, two triggers, what's the difference? We all gon' die one day, and 'til then, I'm gettin' paid My grandma watching, so I ain't gon' curse Still gifted like a Wale verse Backwood full of OG Bobby Johnson Medicine in my soda, tryna dodge the coffin, ah And these days are so bittersweet I guess it's just a balance, we battle naturally And y'all still tripping off a JAY-Z tweet I still got laps to run when me and JAY-Z meet—peep Soul Brother No. 2 The first one used to make beats for CL Smooth Top got the S550, but the CL smooth And rolling weed is the only time I see L's move Soul! [Verse 4: Isaiah Rashad] Look, ayy, I think I found my second home, sunny California And it's your lil' nigga "Brother, you ain't meant for corners"—it's what they told me So I never looked back, I got a shell in the bag Fat as elephant ass, so we flooded the path Passing propellers, I tell her, tell her, "We flying, just listen" See, we diamond, just shining, and they gon' find us just glistening Brought sand to the beach, and we left with your bitches For the record in Guinness, I'm a heckling menace Where's Robin? I'm giving, fucking minding my business He a regular victim of some regular women, huh Regular niggas, you always cater to sluts You always wasting my time, you always faking the funk I put your motherfucking dreams in your face And keep looking for some women to be all in your face That deep dussy, rich nigga, king dussy That Tennessee dussy make a nigga be dussy You could never rap better than me 'Cause you ain't dedicated, you ain't underrated You ain't underlooked, you ain't overbooked, you just undercooked It's supposed to be me and my niggas in the record book Now they got me out here by myself, still fresh as fuck [Verse 5: Kendrick Lamar] I hate y'all, I'd do anything to replace y'all Shout-out to Face Mob A Geto Boy 'til I'm unemployed with a day job And kicking boxes I kick ass and then kick knowledge I'm way more polished than ninety-nine percent of the scholars you thought had graduated I'm the master that masturbated on your favorite emcee Until the industry had wanted me assassinated You either corny or an opportunist I let you eat, now go back to church and steal crackers at communion What are we doing? I'm 'bout to crack the da Vinci Code Yeah, and nothing been the same since they dropped "Control" And tucked a sensitive rapper back in his pajama clothes Haha, joke's on you High-five, {*smack!*}, I'm bulletproof Your shots'll never penetrate Pin a tail on the donkey, boy, you been a fake I got my thumb on hip-hop And my foot in the back of your ass Aftermath get the last laugh I serve niggas like Master Geoffrey, jump on this curb Turn a shotty to a verb if you let me, you know I'm a killer I'm on your head, you know I'm a killer The West Coast Cosa Nostra, under oath 'til it's over You over-owe us So what the fuck? I fuck you niggas up, I fuck you niggas up She suck and fuck, I fuckin' duck you fuck-niggas like when I want You go at us, you going fucking nuts, acting irrational Pop you, then pop an Adderall, know the drill like a lateral, nigga I'm more Pappy Mason than Pastor Mason Pacing back and forth, racing, my thoughts on embracing Daytons I spilled blood on my apron cooking this shit up I feel like some of y'all is hating Quite frankly, your bitch booty should thank me for grabbing it Turn these hoodrats to actresses, what a magic trick Accidents never happen when murder's involved Immaculate tactics, so follow me, if you need me, just call on me I say, "Hold up, wait a minute Your career ain't shit unless you got some Kendrick in it" You pussies ain't shit, ain't no room is left on my dick 'Less you look like Jordin Spark, make my mark on that clitoris, mwah Hollywood's been good to me Lil' hood nigga, used to pawn mom's jewelry Family jewels big as fuck, and I got the balls to say it Balls-deep, balling out 'til Spalding need a replacement I'm outchea, the West in your mouth, chyeah Invest in the vest of Vietnam vets when you out near The white court building, spilling its Merlot Fillin' women, a Virgo pimped the industry 'Member these Stacey Adams and fur-coats Shook, you're scared to death You're scared to look in the mirror when Kendrick is near you— King Kendrick!