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lirik lagu crooked i - freestyle cypher

[intro – crooked i]
yo, you n-ggas making them vibe articles, ”best rappers alive”
y’all n-ggas don’t know what the f-ck y’all talking about
ha ha ha ha, n-ggas can’t rap no more, but my n-ggas can
ladies and gentlemen
you remember when n-ggas had to know how to rhyme?
way back, this the ”cypher 2”
it ain’t for you radio n-ggas, ha ha

[verse 1 – demetrius capone]
we the best spittin’, best livin’ or dead
i write fly sh-t like kites sent to the feds
to battle n-ggas inside prison – listen
i been spittin’ them death sentences for a life sentencin’, yep
n-ggas die behind bars, i mean die behind sh-t that i said
i guess i’m like mike vick in the head
i k!ll n-ggas who think they bite vicious
but you a female, dog, that’s why y’all like b-tchin’ instead
i think of hot sh-t like pyrokinesis
speaking of kinesis, whith psychokinesis i’m squeezing a rifle
leaving no prints, and i stole your pieces
to leave you without arms like the venus de milo
jesus christ, he can squeeze with his eyes closed
or blindfolded, and knock a fly off a guy’s nose
spitting liquid nitro
cardiac or cartier, either way my ticker’s ice cold

[verse 2 – julius luciano]
i’ll get a .45 if you test me, i don’t mean a low score
ratchet, let you have it like i don’t need it no more
i’m so great, i roast these mc’s for dough, ay
then donate the proceeds to your team, now go pay a ghostwriter okay
your flow seems to need some mo’ flavor, now go play
and don’t speak to me i’m so vein
i boast, i’m low-key, conceited
i don’t even put ”do re”, before ”mi” you see
i don’t see no way like dopefiends
you need a hit of my spit, one dose leave you weak
something that sounds like, oh-in-ne-in should go here but naw
it’s no fair for y’all
i flow so rare it’s no error or flaws
oh yeah beef, when i go there to draw
bang! man that gat scar n-ggas
i’ll blow you to madagascar n-gga

[verse 3 – dice dinero]
who wanna f-ck with this raw n-gga? i come through at night and sn-tch your life
i shoot your b-tch, that’s how i mac/mack your wife
then shoot her again in the afterlife
see i’m a problem, your beef to each his own; i’ll eat your soul
when i go into a ether zone i’m on the eastside of long beach
i’m the beast you don’t see, the grim reapers’s clone
give me a pen and a pad and a microphone
and you can wind up with your muh’f-cking speakers blown
my flow is acid, my spit’s sulfuric
i bury you with the lyrics beneath the earth, lift this finger
disappearing, listen here it’s crystal clear
my shots’ll lift your soul, i mean lift your spirits
cause every bar in my -rs-nal is -rs-nic
attract arsonists, i’m more armed with arctic spit
don’t n0body want it like heavy smokers
my gun’s most likey loaded with bodies on it
call a morgue cause it holds carc-sses

[verse 4 – kenny siegel]
brrap brrap! pack, we the best ’round
f-ck these old dudes who lost they touch as if they was paralyzed from the neck down
clique of tyrants, you can call us the new west now
we a virus, you can call us the new west nile
we harder than trying to spot a spit with bad vision
so n-ggas might wanna be easy like fast b-tches
i’m past wicked slash vicious
if we clash i’ll blast clips and leave your presence/presents in the past like last christmas
you get erased by a gorilla for realer ay
with the steel that i conceal, i can seal your fate
skip a wake, i’ll bury you while you still awake
i’ll put n-ggas in they place as if i’m in real estate
my clique deep, we skape in circles on some cold sh-t
as if we trying to figure skate, and pull off the figure eight
i don’t think y’all men straight, naw, i think y’all menstruate
i’ll leave holes in you like the figure eight, leave your figure ate

[verse 5 – royce da 5’9]
the horse shoe, gang
you from long beach or detroit boy you annoyed of course you bang
look at that bugatti, look at the body on that p-ssenger
take your top off you then body the bottom half of ya
if it’s drama i’mma take the whole family out
maxwell sheffield, that’s right, i’ll take the nanny out
i’ll beat that drum boy
i’m like travis barker with an ak-47
but i’ll be deep in that spot though
i got my mexican chick, ’bout to go put my beef in her taco
haha, pardon my candor
but anytime i was ever questioned the gun spark was my answer
pull your tool out, we ain’t in here with fakers
we can turn this into cleveland vs. the lakers
haha, a shootout, death i rule out
yes, we way too busy murking your crew ou

[verse 6 – crooked i]
i’m the n-gga you should call when when kicking the raw written
i mastered what yall call spitting
my ice cold sentence is frost bitten
i’m sh-tting on y’all gripping the sawed off
you a lost kitten gettin your paws gnawed off
by the big dog listen
no matter what prodigy thought of me i should be commonly known as the best
point the chrome at ya chest
never lazy, get crazy busy so the bullets move in harmony through ya bone and ya flesh
a supervillian, i’m ill as bizzaro, i’ll k!ll ya tommorow
then a n-ggas chillin in kilimanjaro
how many bullets from the steel are u willing to borrow
you dying to ride, f-ck it, i lend you a carload
you’ll die in ya ride, wife trying to hide
cyanide poison ya bride, she dying inside
i walk the streets of long beach with a screw loose
talking to myself, n-ggas think i’m on a bluetooth

- lirik lagu crooked i

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