Meek Mill, Kid Ink, DJ Ill Will - Cypher lyrics

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

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

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 it's T-Lanez, Ink, Meek
And Los in this bitch

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 it's 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 it's "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