lirik lagu spose – pdank cypher 2
[verse 1: essence]
pdank cypher number two
i, i never left you, never turned my back
kept you when i met you, respect you, there ain’t no turning back
i burn the map and keep on trekking on my own trail
i’m sweating but i won’t fail, these records come with low sales
my soul prevails, you can hear it into china
i’m that lyrical messiah, throwing spears with a v-g-n-
appearing with us, it’s spirits building pyramids inside you
that feeling’s when i’m rhyming with no heaters when i pull back
the lone lady plus the leader of the wolf pack
my flow crazy, man, i’m ether and your pulse flat
go and don’t debate me, i’m rabies mixed with a hulk smash
then fall back, pull back, keep your bars low
my flow is automatics out the window when the car slows
let the scars show, tell me what to do with it
you know we been a movement, we just getting to the root of it
[verse 2: spose]
pdank cypher number two, ayup
yo, yo, yo
yo, i bloviated less, but the -ssociated press
knows i got susan collins giving dome and brain and neck
bro, i been on; ll bean on the accelerator
then i hit the j like solange in the elevator
and what i’m spitting is the juxtaposition
of what you want to hear, plus what you don’t want to see written
and every scripture i’ve given had a nice f-cking balance
i been cold off the dome like the ice bucket challenge
i’m hungry, i’m needing a belt
it’s peter, your leader, from wells
still speaking the truth for the people who too busy working to speak it themselves
still reaching my hand in the gutter and then i been pulling them out of the ditch
still repping for everyone struggling just to get food in the mouth of their kids
you maniacs tentative, shady–ss gentlemen
my lady’s at the settlement when brady p-ss to edelman
sipping on a bissell or a trickle from the netherlands
hunger of a rookie with the wisdom of a veteran
while you’re dismissing all the wishes that you had in mind
you spent too long lamping and the genie from aladdin died
[verse 3: jay caron]
i’m a number that gets called when the squad needs buckets
i throw caution to the wind, my att-tude like “f-ck it”
see, i done worked too many hours just to do this for the love of it
been thirty-three-plus years since i did landed from the mothership
cats be like, “i always knew that jay was on some other sh-t”
with talent off the hinges, middle fingers to the government
i’ll take the weight and carry it, my style, i’ll vary it
i’m royal, cruising through the shows in chrome custom chariots
the rhyme inventor with a temper, don’t be flaring it
my fuse is short, i rap for sport, the people stop to stare at it
don’t give a sh-t what critics say, my vocal cords get ricocheted
off the walls and into ears while dancing like a kid in play
i swing away when at the plate, a b-st-rd who procrastinates
laid up on the couch, just sitting naked while i’m half-awake
i’m p-ssionate about my rapping so i do it often
bury me at sea dressed as a captain when i’m in the coffin
so count your losses as the season’s ending
‘cause solo stats don’t mean nothing if your team ain’t winning
[verse 4: mike b]
mighty mike b, ock cousteau
yo, mike b on beats is magic
peace to the peeps i rap with
it’s pdank, and all these other cats need to practice
the beast is back, mike, i’ve earned the right to boast
rising to the heights of clouds at night, throwing lightning bolts
i strike a pose while they fashioning my trophies
and these rappers that i’m bashing all are bragging that they know me
their fans all want to clone me
phone me? i won’t answer it
i’m busy eating sandwiches, smoking up on my cancer stick
give me my chance to spit, torture sh-t in ritual
rewards are looking handsome like a portrait of my physical
slap it on some currency, politicians heard of me
got a call from barack, he want to talk every emergency
but f-ck it, i got a plot to get my peace
fake my death and then return after my posthumous release
drinking vodka on the beach, writing nautical songs
blow you out the water like sailing in tropical storms
f-ck it, it’s on— ock cousteau, we both aquamen
pdank in the mint so i can sponsor up a proper jam
d-mn
[verse 5: cam groves]
yo, i’d rather make you crack up than act tough
and write the stuff to make people turn the track up
and all the rhymes that i hack up, got ‘em stacked up
you could pack ‘em in the back of a mack truck
all you cats is a pack of wack duds
you rappers getting p-ssed up like fat sl-ts
grab my nuts when i walk by
focused on my mission with the vision of a hawk’s eye
we need division like apartheid
‘cause i’m better with the bars and more driven than a par five
i’m not hard, but i’ll hit you with the rawhide
from where you’re sitting, my position is a far cry
you’s a b-tch and you should listen to a smart guy
use a little bit of wisdom, play your cards wise
yo, i’m throwing down and i’m calling your bluff
and when it comes to dedication, man, a lot of you suck
not in it for the bucks, not hollow as f-ck
eat a d-ck, swallow a nut to follow it up
b-tch
[verse 6: shane reis]
uh, look
i’m underrated, i’m not the one who’s saying it
you can see it like the shape of a hand holding a bayonet
it’s mr. “do a show even if they underpay”
because a little makes a lot, and i’m nutty on the stage
but there’s other fish to fry, i’m just letting out the lines
and you roll up in the reel with a short amount of time
you be rolling trees while you riding on the pond
and i’m surprised that i can see you while rappelling from the climb
this sh-t’s braided in me like a rope lay be
rise with the tide, but your neck’s not where my throat may be
you want a shot at me, i’m like, okay, see
you’re like somebody from seattle repping okc
see, i’m fresh off the top like i copped a new fitted
and i’m only indigo like my flow’s got a blue finish
your post on the totem’s like hugging the floor
they want that raw joint to buck to, i’m loving the score
see, i got that one-two, i call it russell amore(?)
but if you’re getting out-hustled, then what you hustling for?
reis
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