[Verse 1: Hit-Boy]
And I say one for the money, three for the show (Roll up)
Because we know that all the bad bitches smoke (Vibe with me!)
You competition is past fictional
Gettin stopped like a bad pick and roll, magnifico
These niggas is getting old, my team too strong
Kevin knows, take you out your zone, I'm the new don
And the only polo I know is Ralph Lauren
Put me on the court with the opposition, I'll outscore 'em (Easy)
[Verse 2: Kent M$ney]
Try not to use cash so my checks serve a purpose
Every time I sign for a blessing, I use my cursive
Got scruffs on my Timbs for a dollar so it was worth it
Cocaine white suits, see an angel before we murk him
Hard for the work, niggas' eyes love to lurk
I got a bitch named cal, she 'bout 40 and love to twerk
Nothing changed, range aiming at your frame, nigga
Ain't a clause when dear to reign get you slain nigga
[Verse 3: Pricetag]
Uh, Prices turnover the code like da Vinci, no nigga tempt me
Generational curse of chugging whiskey 'til it was empty
"Cypher" is a song by HS87 from the album Eyes Wide Shut, released in 2013. The song was written by BMac the Queen, Casey Veggies, Hit-Boy, Kent M$ney, Method Man, Oktane, PRICE, Raekwon, Redman, Rick Ross, ScHoolboy Q, Xzibit. It was produced by Hypnotist Beats.
Down With Boring
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Drive-bys out that four-door Honda, dreams of a Bentley
Pockets full of dead white men, I pray the master don't lynch me
Step your game up, you wifed her, she been a rat
I text her at the crack of dawn, tap-tap it and send her back
My granny, momma, sister, cousin bedroom was up in that trap
"Is them drugs up on my counter?" "No momma, that's Similac"
[Verse 4: B Mac the Queen]
Yo, I just spent like 30K today, I ain't gon' front
See I came up from the bottom, I'ma get everything I want
See the homies, I'ma holla, nothing changed, I rolled a blunt
Told 'em now it's time to eat cause we been starving days and months
And it's a must that we can trust nobody but us, we ready to bust
If enemies come, but I can realize that this ain't what you want
See I do this shit for fun, screaming HS87 'til I'm done
(Vibe with me!) Ha, now I'm done
Stop the beat, here comes the starter
Grab your popcorn, grab your water
Grab your daughter, 'cause she watching
'Cause I start like Mr. Carter
Say I'm ballin' like a man, finger on the trigger
Got money all in my pocket, I'm a I-E nigga
Name Oktane, that nigga Oktane to be exact
You hoped to hear from a real nigga one day, well this is that
I got that crack and I got that X, R, E, AK, and I got my back
Tony Montana give em that brrrat, HS87 nigga that's that, I'm done
No need for me to getting involved
You'll get hit with a bat and wrapped in a cloth
Uh, razor blades, shanks and fades
Everybody on the floor or they K'd
Uh, my young gliggity-Glock got on my crotch
Can't wrap me in a bag, I'm going pop
Uh, new Rollie, so heavy metal, want a rock? Gotta hustle nonstop
Look, wash your hands before you shake mine
You was talking shit, I heard it through the grapevine
Yeah, it's a lot of boppers on the sideline
So the young baller had to go baseline
I'm a black nigga with money like Akon
You mad the squad winning, that's a hate crime
Peas and carrots, live and grow, that's my day job
Young Veggie attract hoes like a Drake song
(West!) California, Christopher Dorner manifesto
Hit-Boy hip-hop, I started on the metro
But now I'm in that retro, Ferrari two-seater
With the pedal to the floor, got it singing like Aretha
If you scared, get a dog or a preacher
Hit the hot spot with a bitch resembling Mona Lisa
Priceless, I'm righteous, I walk the talk
I am cooked cocaine, you are softer than chalk
'Cause your bite ain't as bad as your bark
After dark, you inside like an embryo, I swim with the sharks
'Cause when I smell blood in the water, I'm taking over
Like the New World Order, witness the gangland slaughter
Still sipping Rosé back seat of the Rolls
Kilos on the Cuban Link, they thought it was Hov's
Fascinated with gold, sneakers and talented hoes
Before you get to cruise, you paddle the boat
Elevated to elevators, had to walk flights
Young niggas lick shots for them Air Nikes
Yo, ride with me although the driver is tipsy
Avoid them officers that are calling 50s to get me
They call me talk of the city, never talkin' the jiggy
Man, I'd rather talk to Whitney, condolence to Bobbi Krissy
Balling I'm forreal, I got NBA skill
Make you feel a little scrappy with the Stevie J grill
And y'all ain't gotta ask me if it's Homicide Hill
Nah, don't even ask me, this is Homicide Hill
I'm from the era of Biggie Smalls, TLC "Waterfalls"
Buying dimebags by the mini-mall
I got your whole city logged online
Disrespect mine, I be throwing ones like a titty bar
You fucking with a grown man, boy
I Plug 2 like Trugoy, send that memo on your Android
For 10G, you can talk to the boss
My experience, I'm like Jordan on the court, nigga
Pyrex pots and Guess shorts, yo, weed flow is the best sport
Now I'm underwater flipping quarters
The code to go tackle the globe, black MAC in the robe
Metal mag cold straps, shit is gold
Partyville and Hennessy fiend, I'm blessed, it was a dream
He had his team moving tight like skinny jeans
You know, by any means, we will bring the magazines
Out and clap everything down like little geeses
All ridin' with Ninas, cooling in cuisines
Yo the whores is giving top in the back, I ordered wings
Spray shit up to smithereens, stepping off, they sway shit
Shake your hand, blow you head up in Killa Queens
Yo, the dons know what it do, I'm just that fly in the interview
Wintertime grinding it seems
Remember the pledge of allegiance, to the team
With more reasons, more firepower, and more squeezes
PRICE
— 52 credits as songwriter & producer →
