lirik lagu sypher - no hooks
[verse 1]
i need a chick to play dirty, extend my johnson
and can act nerdy like emma watson
defend i’m awesome with the pen, i’m flossin’
send your boss in to end this nonsense
jersey sh0r- cr-p rappers try’na buy a tan
i’mma do to them what dr. doom can do to spiderman
take you higher than the girl who calls him tiger can
try’na rhyme like sypher, man? naw homie, try again
b-tch rappers stink like arm pits after a long run
and in the long run, we’re all done, son
do your little dance like carlton
your two cents is a nuissance like the hairs on my ball fronts
y’all dumb, thinking you can battle the flow, man
i’m going in raw, no hogan or trojan
call me conan, cause i’m co-co with mo’ o’s
and i’m sick enough to borrow my own flows
my morals were lost when my poor nose got into p-rnos
so now your wh0r- knows i score goals like iverson
in cornrows, rep ryerson, for sure, yo
at least until i graduate
then i’mma get my money right so dummy types will have to hate
i’m glad i’m late, that could rhyme with m-st-rbate
lyrically i emasculate then ej-cul-te, it’s savage rape
rapping way too fast today, it’s about time we slow it down
there’s enough -ss-whoopin’s and gr-ss huffin’ to go around
never staying sober now, clever with that bolder sound
lord of the flies sort of a guy, literates, i hold you down
bigger t-ts, i hold you up
you know i like to grope and touch, stroke and such
t.m.i., he’s a guy rhyming open much
you’re like “yuck, why he gotta be like that?”
well, i need you to smell, hear, feel and see my raps
feed your trap, okay, see?
i go harden; okc
fly my car right by mars when i buy the bar and soak my t–th
[verse 2]
this ain’t that t-rd, drake, it’s more like an earthquake
i keep my words great for the nerds’ sake
this ain’t kardinal, these rappers are starving now
and it’s all fun and games like a carnival
this ain’t k-os, we deep in the playoffs
layoff nosey people like i’m adolf
this ain’t the era of jd, it’s a terrorist, maybe
and the error is i never get lazy
this ain’t shad k, it’s more like a bad day
i’m putting out your flame like an ash tray
this ain’t cl-ssified, it’s that shaun y-ssin guy
and like the cl-ss attendance, i’m last to die
get pacified as i come sn-tch the pie
i got a m-ssive drive to get cash tonight
so when i grab the mic, don’t bother asking why
i can rap alright, i just lack the hype
cause i’m not black or white and i don’t pack a pipe
don’t choke, act or fight but it’s dope tracks i write
with my own active mind that are so cl-ssic like
hov, rakim, ice cube, kno, paz and price
…don’t ask advice
it’s so sad for sight to see old-fashioned types
with notepads, no swag and show wack insight
when they flow savage but with broke, flaccid rhymes
…loud mouth with weak bars
from t-dot to down south we geek hard
lyrical, spitting fire with a radical ravage
rhyme syllables at a higher mathematical average
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