Tech N9ne, Ces Cru, Stevie Stone - Strangeulation Vol. II Cypher II lyrics

For what I wanted to do was
Take some of my classic beats
And send 'em to my artists
To see what they would
Come up with on these beats
That I love so much, so
I wanna call Stevie Stone and
Ces Cru to murder, let's go

Feel the hate when they come around
Little bull better settle down
Feel the love, I'm the great and or the true
See the fakes and the snakes
I'm always outta bounds
See I been dealt a hand, my nigga, I can peep
Peeping the shifty fans, my nigga they gon'
(see) see me going HAM, getting bigger, nigga
(Talk that shit, if you want to hack my
Tech N9ne play it again)
Make sure you remember me
Me the odd ball liquor


When Stevie get to speaking, the plot
Thickens with and these niggas is Vixens
Competition, it's really contradiction
(uh huh)
Learning from the realest slim pickings
I love it, how you doubt a nigga
Hound a nigga panned out
All this profit sought the
Stone to stand stout
On rigid and rare routes
It's like procedure to hear a nigga out
Strangeulation two and it's right now
Let's take it to another level
Hot metal, black kettle, bitch
High pitched, fly shit, falsetto
Five words like the bandit lord
I think this weed got me paranoid
Middle finger to my enemies
I say all you niggas is bitches
Jurisdiction have so many restrictions
All you niggas is fiction, no conviction
Niggas get to dissin'
I'll have you outta commission
Bodies missing, call my brother to lynch 'em
All you niggas is gimmicks
Frail body and soul
All you niggas pretending
Thought that we so-called family
All you niggas can get it
Turning my volume up had us upon that midget
Let me hear you say names
Let me hear you holler Strange
Octane with flame
Will leave your bodies decaying
Niggas be playing games, my niggas taking aim
Have you in a debacle
Better stay in your lane guess time'll tell
(guess time'll tell, guess time'll tell)

Right hand over my heart of
Hearts I'm pledging allegiance to Ces
For whatever the reasons I
Have withered the seasons
They're dead in the breeze
I'm ready to feed 'em
I never believed 'em, you son of
A bitch, son of a preacher, word of
Heaven and Jesus
Through seven degrees of separation is still
And spreading diseases
My recommendation is cheddar your cheeses
Maybe you better get business
Like I didn't know that I carried the load
I know your boy is heavy and heaving
That's word to Strange and Tech
The N9ne, I mean, who better to lead us
Since I been with that team
I been spinning them G's
Bitch, yeah, you better believe it
Cash come in a bulk amount now
I'm staying ahead of my dreams so
The fuck could I sulk about
For real, I'll never be satisfied still
I don't be vocal out loud
Respect is due, I show it, don't blow it
My records are outbound
Chill, I'm choosing my weapons wisely
We never will lose direction
Guide 'em through the Recession Proof
Should include a confession, truth
Started from the Bikini Bottom
We're here but it's something fishy
Twenty sixteen, Strange Music
Making some fucking history

I know they want me to put up the pen
And just quit with the rapping
It won't never happen, no
For the minutes that I been in it
I'm a killer still in the
Back but I'm clapping though
In a matter of fact I been acting, so
Out of wack and my brain is on overload
I don't call anybody, ain't nobody calling me
Maybe I don't need a phone no mo'
Guess I won’t pay the bill and the villain is
Spillin' venom in him then I’m a goner
And haters are catering to me with wishes
That I wouldn't win any longer
Idiot, you're just making me
Stronger, wanna kill me, then pay me no mind
Get a record that's quite a bit longer
If you don't feel me then get on your grind
I don't mean to be mean but the measure is
Simple when you try to weather the outcome
Now I don't need a
Reason, killing any season
In fact I am better without one
You don't know anything about
Heat or the temp
Of the weather that I'm coming out from
And I wouldn't consider you
Equal like other people
Where the fuck is your album?
Shit to you is a hobby and obviously
Y'all ain't knowing to measure at all
Murdering it for pleasure, ain't
Fucking with Godi
I'm sick with a medicine ball
Couldn't give 'em a shit, not even
A little bit cause they haters, we know it
We all know the location
Come get your face winched
Strangeulation reloaded! (Fuck)