Canibus, Ras Kass, K-Solo - The Golden Cypher lyrics
[Canibus, Ras Kass, K-Solo - The Golden Cypher lyrics]
Y'all niggas don't belong here
Like Michael Steele
At a Republican Party, I go for ?
Leave cum stains on Sarah
Palin's veneers for sure
Like I'm in Mordor, tryin to burn the ring up
The black semi knock your block
Off like playin Jenga
Have sex with the whole world just
By raisin my middle finger
But y'all don't hear me though, +Inga+
And just like that I'm back
Spittin nasty as +Foxy+
Then I'ma stop servin y'all
Like the soup nazi happy Days
Then I'ma spin off like +Joanie Loves Chachi+
Burn rubber, the Maserati mach three
Screamin mazeltov at my aki
Squad vomit at Keith Shocklee for
The beat made of broccoli
Got a Palestinian girl, her pussy the bomb
Get it? Blew up, you can't stop me
That's right, I wreck melody, so much energy
Why get on the track if you
Can't stand next to me
So much energy it's a felony
Ya microphone memory remember me
This is your penalty
You can't keep up mentally
You can't rhyme intelligently
Do it on the track
Can't do it in front of me you fronting
You and your man get all psyched
Up like it's Fight Club
Times up, you lost, life sucks
So does your wife slut, got a nice cunt
Last night we wiped white stuff on her butt
True power cannot be achieved by
Fighting over the mic
You can't compete with Canibus, aight
If your hat's turned to the back and you rap
Be prepared to scrap
You don't have to be scared of no strap
Cos your mind overstand all that
Fall back or no more contact
With the gods of Rap
Go back to the Lyrical Law lab
First of all you trash
You can't add all the rhymes you had
Your mouth is a wound and
Your tongue is a scab this is a concept the
Young mind doesn't grasp
That old stick in the mud will put
A gold bullet in the gun
Show you where red blood comes from
But that's not what you want, you want love
Where does that come from
Define that you bum
One thing at a time, intertwined as one mind
The proto in the prime of one perpetual line
No evil one I can divide
No matter the times, try
No matter the lies that claim otherwise
Slumdog drug lord, guns drawn
Motherfuck guns laws
Catch a big minigun gun charge
This is Lyrical Law not lyrical war
This is spiritual god, get your lyrics
Get your lyrics
I'm nice with everything but chopsticks
Eyes couldn't see my style with glasses
Or binoculars made of optics
Stop it, slam it
Rappers couldn't scoop a topic
Let alone follow they finger to mock this
Caught your hand on my style kid
Put it in your pocket
If you can't get it home
What the fuck is the logic? Want my devices
Send my boys in to send fire to the ground
Hang my flag and brag, who's the nicest?
My Fort Knox, like Bunker Hill
? emcees guerrillas rhymin to go banana
Breaks performed by Mad Drill
Man chill, your man'll get killed
And when they dump his ass off they
Gon' find him in a landfill
If I have to I will, that's on the real
I'm +Destiny's+ only +Child+ of the pay
On these girl group "Bills"
Word to Arthur Kill, Gun Hill for real
Wolf Gang, Murder Mouth
It's the king of the hill