Packy, Cyrus - The Cypher lyrics
[Packy, Cyrus - The Cypher lyrics]
Very good, very good professor
Check these, the deal is on
And here's you first installment
One million dollars
I hope your tires go flat when
You whipping in your new Beamer
Call Triple-A and get the "You
Ain’t paid the bill" line
Good grades back in postgrad
D list celebrity now, but you can’t hold that
Hands-free, walking handjob
Promise I ain’t hiring
Forgot to turn the sign off
This is one hell of a way
To start a conversation with myself
But it I relate
I got bottles by the eight count
That’s crazier than my dad’s mom
Models in my lake house that’s
Angrier than I am
Feet in the water looking up
Like I owe ‘em something
Walked the seven mile in the
Eight with the Bieber bumping
New kids obsessed
With the old school when they
Never went to class
If you wanna act like Hip-Hop is dead
You should probably wake up and
Then go back to bed
Yeah! Morning after the wedding, it’s lit!
This shit feel like ’09 again in the basement
Still I’m taking my shots but I’m
The one that they chasing
Went from ain’t nobody tryna sign me
To moving up into the
Offices and having signees
Look at me, took the neighborhood
I came up in, flipped that shit
Into a movement
Everybody want their name up in
It’s whatever, it’s lit now
This song was alright, I gave it a verse
It's a hit now
These rappers are jokes, they been clowns
Do a stand-up or sit down
I could get the hands up and
Still hold the Mitt down
Look at the kid now, been off the grid now
For a minute
When the fall come, you all’ll be witness
I might hit the fall and winter like
A fadeaway J at the buzzer
Take it away 'cause I’m on my J
Or a couple a dozen a day
Spit but they got nothing to say
I beat the odds once
Now it’s double or nothing to play pack!
Woo! It’s super lit!
Check these, the deal is on
And here's you first installment
One million dollars
I hope your tires go flat when
You whipping in your new Beamer
Call Triple-A and get the "You
Ain’t paid the bill" line
Good grades back in postgrad
D list celebrity now, but you can’t hold that
Hands-free, walking handjob
Promise I ain’t hiring
Forgot to turn the sign off
This is one hell of a way
To start a conversation with myself
But it I relate
I got bottles by the eight count
That’s crazier than my dad’s mom
Models in my lake house that’s
Angrier than I am
Feet in the water looking up
Like I owe ‘em something
Walked the seven mile in the
Eight with the Bieber bumping
New kids obsessed
With the old school when they
Never went to class
If you wanna act like Hip-Hop is dead
You should probably wake up and
Then go back to bed
Yeah! Morning after the wedding, it’s lit!
This shit feel like ’09 again in the basement
Still I’m taking my shots but I’m
The one that they chasing
Went from ain’t nobody tryna sign me
To moving up into the
Offices and having signees
Look at me, took the neighborhood
I came up in, flipped that shit
Into a movement
Everybody want their name up in
It’s whatever, it’s lit now
This song was alright, I gave it a verse
It's a hit now
These rappers are jokes, they been clowns
Do a stand-up or sit down
I could get the hands up and
Still hold the Mitt down
Look at the kid now, been off the grid now
For a minute
When the fall come, you all’ll be witness
I might hit the fall and winter like
A fadeaway J at the buzzer
Take it away 'cause I’m on my J
Or a couple a dozen a day
Spit but they got nothing to say
I beat the odds once
Now it’s double or nothing to play pack!
Woo! It’s super lit!