Cypher

[Verse 1: Kid Ink] Yeah I said it's Kid Ink baby Turned to the max like TJ Body tagged up like the bottom of the freeway Game on lock, you niggas need to get a key made Run this shit and it ain't nothing but a relay And ain’t nothing you can tell us About to roll up, kush sticky like Elmer’s This ain’t no how I act like summa Going head up with me, bring a motherfucking helmet You niggas just special ed All I see is green but my eyes so red And all I do is win, got a room full of clouds About to take another shot but I’m used to the fouls I'm ballin', you could take two to the mouth It's Alumni, throw it up, two to the south Tell them deuces, just put two in the air So sick, said it must be the flu in the air If you do it big then I probably did it obese Thought it was a dream but I never get no sleep Up all night getting higher then the nose bleed Swear I was raised by a beast like Mogli Came from the bottom, rats and the roaches Now a nigga's blunts sitting as fat as my roaches Bout to go ham, you niggas just kosher I’m a shark in the water, see the fin and it's over [Verse 2: Meek Mill] Bitch They were sleeping on me Time for me to wake them up Counting all these fucking benjys 'Til I get a paper cut Kill the competition, I embalm em then I make em up Only time we Black and Yellow when the caution tape is up Ha, that record dead, Memory of Spitting that crack This really is drugs It's hate in the air I ain’t feeling the love You like an irritating fly I’m killing your buzz I’m eating the beat This is Pac-Man I’m on the grind like a motherfucking lap dance Shorty gon’ do whatever Say she's a rap fan Every nigga around me robbin', Batman All black coupes All black wheels Step out the line, I'm a show you how that MAC feel I’m like C. Bailey in the corner of that backfield Wrong move will get your motherfucking cap pilled Rolling in this murder engine Purrin' through your neighborhood Let my money do the talking I ain't gotta say I'm good Homies that'll gun you down I ain’t gotta say I would Riding like an engine bitch I ain’t gotta say I’m hood I tell a ho to follow me or swallow me I be spending money Like I fucking hit the lottery If I ever hit your girl Then this is my apology Cause suckers that be tripping about these bitches Tryna body me [Verse 3: Los] I’m about to go Rope around my arm Needle in it I could feel it now Towel round my head Taliban knock the building down High cock blocker I’m a fly top shotter In my all red rims Like a high top Prada On my mommas mouth to the drama And lies would be gripping from my lips As I’m spitting that shit that Osama be gripping Hungry as a poverty stricken Robbery victim With a roscoes waffles and chickens Winning lottery ticket And your girl let me pop it in real life I beat it like they locked me in a room With the doctor that killed Mike I feel like, put me in a field let the field lights Shine on the field now watch me kill all the field mice I’m anthrax you tampax I’m about to go Amtrax Jack Black black Jack Got the track saran wrap Stand back I’m slamming an antagonist Slapping you faggots putting the can in the bandwagoners Swag of the century, mackin' a bitch or three I hear it was nothing trying to crack it eventually Rappers that mention me Boy, I put this on my mother You will end up in the scope Im jus trynna warn a brother Still getting cheescake on these dummies Deal or no deal I got a briefcase full of money Jahlil on the beat, Will hosting this shit And its T-Lanez, Ink, Meek, and Los in this bitch [Verse 4: Tory Lanez] I get in the instrumental, I get to switching the mental The bitch in rental just positions my dick in her dental Y’all know my bitch is yellow bone, on yellow stone Double scoop, chocolate woman and my vanilla cone Yelling cause I’m very calm, yes I’m on the cherry bone Things seem quicker than a ping hit ya berry phone Ya don’t wanna talk about balling parallel Larry Holmes Money never growing, like a fucking young Gary Coleman Veteran, batter up, better in It's the N to you rappers, like the letter after M And I'm a Lamborghini nigga, nigga you can never see me Im the shhh, Triple H, you gone have to pedigree me Bitch I'm ready for the beef, like its some lettuce in between me You got eeny meeny money, teeny like the youngest preemy And even if you niggas is crippin, still can never “C” me Or beat me with three wishes, and a motherfuckin' genie Scared and they fare when I play a record on ya Weird and you squared, I could play checkers on ya Rappers, yall actors, and I rip this track till its “Tra”-”ck” I rollerblade, let it ride, show my face, televise Dot to ya top, like the lower case letter i I fly higher that a sci-fi flyer Fire like I'm 5 lighters, brighter than a highlighter Oops, I'm in a loop for time This a European whip check the coupe design Time Is Money is the building and the truth inside Goon shoot you in ya head make ya loose ya mind, for real