The Cypher, Pt. 1
I spent the cash on the block (Block)
Mess with the boys, get chopped (Chop)
Run in the house with the Glock (Glock)
Taking your coat 'cause "Mans Not Hot!"
We don't play around, we'll pull up friend (Chyea)
Talking real hot, I'm like what's up then (What's up)
Handle my biz then dash to the car
When they see me pulling up they're quick to alarm (Oh)
Their boys but I don't play, it's a brawl (Boom)
Word to your mom, i'ma bring all the bombs (Woah)
Staying on top, who fall?
It's like a tower, ay where is yours?
Dress so fly, got heat in my jeans
Came out the dryer, 8 on my feet
10 on my jeans, 3 on fleece (Chyea!)
30 on the Jeep, 4 on the Yeez'
Whoo! (Bop, Bop)
I'm an enemy
The belly of it all (Whoo!)
Taking your girl and she had me on the call (On a call)
Balling straight out, get the money and the cars (Yeah)
Bring all the girls to the bar, we lit
Ooou, check out the fit
Check out the wrist
There's ice on the kid (Yeah)
Iced out buddy with that Drake styled money
We getting that money, you know what it is
Coming in hot like we mobbin' (Mobbin')
Hole in your head like a Dolphin (Dolphin)
Urban outfits, yo I'm ballin' (I'm ballin')
Take him out like Bin Laden (Chyea)
Make that cheddar, gotta get that green (Whoo!)
Don't play with me, y'all know that I'm mean
All I want is the chips and the cream
And the water on my neck, I'm a dang submarine, splash!
'Ight, shit
I-I knock that bitch down, she might need a Doctor
I beat that shit up, I ain't even a boxer (Oh yeah)
These niggas my seed so they call me their father
I'ma make your bitch make noise like a otter
When we on the beat, yeah you know we gon' slaughter
Throw these lil niggas to the lion like they fodder
Stop texting my phone, girl, why even bother?
Y'all not on my level y'all somethin' to scoff at
When it's comes to rap shit, y'all know I'm the boss at it (Ugh)
Addicted to kev like a motherfuckin' crack addict (Okay)
Addicted to kev like a motherfuckin' crack addict
Addicted to kev like a motherfuckin' crack addict
Shit, shit, don't hit up my phone, you being dramatic (Dramatic)
Might make a nigga do a flip, acrobatic
I'm staking my bread, we talking mathematics (Mathematics)
Pull up on you? Yeah, that's hella static
Come mess with the gang, we might snatch that chain
Punch you in the mouth, your jaw gon' hang
We gon' blow this shit up like the Taliban (That shit hurt)
Shit, yeah (Oh shit), blow this shit like the Taliban
Might start a war in Afghanistan
The cops pull up, I ran, I ran (Iran)
Might pop a nigga in the chest, Desert Eagle
Might wrap a nigga up, shit, do flamingo
Might have your girl limping sounding like Pingu
Y'all not on our level...
Got extendo mags
With the straps on stack
You don't want this beef so you better fall back (Fall back, fall back)
I got the glock on my lap with the .30 in the back
When we roll through your hood we comin' in snap
I ain't talking 'bout chat
We don't fuck with rats
When 12 roll up like "where they at?"
(Where they at?)
We let em .40 rings like
Yeah, dade county, 'til I die
And that's no lie (305)
We gon ride with the guys, yeah
Got em down on my brothers side
Yeah, we gon' shine
Make you blind
Rollin' through the 305
(305, 305, 305, 305, 305)
(305)
Mess with the boys, get chopped (Chop)
Run in the house with the Glock (Glock)
Taking your coat 'cause "Mans Not Hot!"
We don't play around, we'll pull up friend (Chyea)
Talking real hot, I'm like what's up then (What's up)
Handle my biz then dash to the car
When they see me pulling up they're quick to alarm (Oh)
Their boys but I don't play, it's a brawl (Boom)
Word to your mom, i'ma bring all the bombs (Woah)
Staying on top, who fall?
It's like a tower, ay where is yours?
Dress so fly, got heat in my jeans
Came out the dryer, 8 on my feet
10 on my jeans, 3 on fleece (Chyea!)
30 on the Jeep, 4 on the Yeez'
Whoo! (Bop, Bop)
I'm an enemy
The belly of it all (Whoo!)
Taking your girl and she had me on the call (On a call)
Balling straight out, get the money and the cars (Yeah)
Bring all the girls to the bar, we lit
Ooou, check out the fit
Check out the wrist
There's ice on the kid (Yeah)
Iced out buddy with that Drake styled money
We getting that money, you know what it is
Coming in hot like we mobbin' (Mobbin')
Hole in your head like a Dolphin (Dolphin)
Urban outfits, yo I'm ballin' (I'm ballin')
Take him out like Bin Laden (Chyea)
Make that cheddar, gotta get that green (Whoo!)
Don't play with me, y'all know that I'm mean
All I want is the chips and the cream
And the water on my neck, I'm a dang submarine, splash!
'Ight, shit
I-I knock that bitch down, she might need a Doctor
I beat that shit up, I ain't even a boxer (Oh yeah)
These niggas my seed so they call me their father
I'ma make your bitch make noise like a otter
When we on the beat, yeah you know we gon' slaughter
Throw these lil niggas to the lion like they fodder
Stop texting my phone, girl, why even bother?
Y'all not on my level y'all somethin' to scoff at
When it's comes to rap shit, y'all know I'm the boss at it (Ugh)
Addicted to kev like a motherfuckin' crack addict (Okay)
Addicted to kev like a motherfuckin' crack addict
Addicted to kev like a motherfuckin' crack addict
Shit, shit, don't hit up my phone, you being dramatic (Dramatic)
Might make a nigga do a flip, acrobatic
I'm staking my bread, we talking mathematics (Mathematics)
Pull up on you? Yeah, that's hella static
Come mess with the gang, we might snatch that chain
Punch you in the mouth, your jaw gon' hang
We gon' blow this shit up like the Taliban (That shit hurt)
Shit, yeah (Oh shit), blow this shit like the Taliban
Might start a war in Afghanistan
The cops pull up, I ran, I ran (Iran)
Might pop a nigga in the chest, Desert Eagle
Might wrap a nigga up, shit, do flamingo
Might have your girl limping sounding like Pingu
Y'all not on our level...
Got extendo mags
With the straps on stack
You don't want this beef so you better fall back (Fall back, fall back)
I got the glock on my lap with the .30 in the back
When we roll through your hood we comin' in snap
I ain't talking 'bout chat
We don't fuck with rats
When 12 roll up like "where they at?"
(Where they at?)
We let em .40 rings like
Yeah, dade county, 'til I die
And that's no lie (305)
We gon ride with the guys, yeah
Got em down on my brothers side
Yeah, we gon' shine
Make you blind
Rollin' through the 305
(305, 305, 305, 305, 305)
(305)
Credits
Writer(s): Jonathan V
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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