BET Hip Hop Awards 2011 Cypher #1 Lyrics is performed by Tech N9ne Ft. Big KRIT, B.o.B, Kendrick Lamar & Machine Gun Kelly
(Big K.R.I.T.)
M.I crooked slay that, been killing beats since adapt, yeah me and rhymes go way back, way back
Time machine flow when I was swanging and ridin, if you ain’t repping for your people then you’re shucking and jiving, tap dancing and slidin to beat that you can’t comprehend
How dare you speak on where I’m from if you ain't never been
Fried kool-aid who made never ate that in fact, grandma was chefing for real made meals off love and scraps
Thank God for my country folk and family, instead of a metaphor I’d rather take it by James Anderson, damaging how the televised basketball wives, and not tornadoes in the south and how we lost lives
Still rebuilding, pray for the children that have no hero, only the villains that tell them get money, sleep when you die I find it funny, because when you rest in peace don’t mean fast asleep in slumber, Thank God and stay humble
(Tech N9ne)
Real rock rap and not to Xerox, weird not
Enough to make you fear a lot from here watch
I ran scrimmaged and I fought to the damn finish’d
And I popped eyes open without eating me canned spinach
My fans in it constantly telling me I can win it
If I stand grimace damaging man every damn minute
I blend then expands quick it scrams wicked rhyme
Grand spittage, ham wit it, FAM dig its N9ne!
Yeah, hard to see me like the background
Your rap styles coming softer than a cat’s meow
Red laces but booted like I’m Iraq bound
That frown will get you ate by my cannibal from sac town
Triple axe pal, pat down, gat down, bat down, blackout
With a fat smile I might react fowl, so don’t make this cat growl
I caught everybody when I spazzed wow, who do I catch now!
(Machine Gun Kelly)
Cleveland what up!
Yeah, Kells uh Cobains back, I smell like teen spirit man Cobains back
I got these teens screaming like Cobains back, you try me and I’ll make you a legend like Cobain’s strap Blaat yeah, they say I’m wasting my time where the watch at how he got that
They say it wasn’t my time where the watch at, now watch that
Speed of my syllables rhymes better clock that, stop that Bad Boy gave me the contract and I dot that
Now who the heck is this, with his pants red as 666 all up in your girlfriend’s twitpics
That eastside boy up out the 216, that’s making these other rappers get Melo like the Knicks eh Get you spitters huck to finished, and when yall win the game and the cypher was a scrimmage, so everybody gossiping tell a friend that I’m pitching how this white boy just bodied Black entertainment television now lace up!
(Kendrick Lamar)
Pushing a hoopty bumping the fugees, my life is a scary movie your live is a male groupie
Kendrick Lamar broke the handle with 22 Uzi’s stuffed it in my mouth & cack,cack,cack killed the rappers that knew me. Compton’s most wanted I live my life in a dungeon
Came out of a dragon I can probably touch the sun with, my bare hands what are your plans to win a Grammy, sweet taste of victory like Oprah’s virginity
Don’t judge me that’s just some irony trust me I like to laugh and get lucky
My sense of humor is rumored to be a Gemini’s company come with me
In the planet rock and I plan to rock in a plantation chasing many legends that made it
Face it you will never be pac-10 even when the planet stop, I’m 2012 on a 12 inch
Aiming straight at your pelvis, Elvis would come back as a black if you was hot, you’re just a mascot on a Kim Kardashian ass shot
(B.O.B)
Full blooded pedigree, prize fighter special breed, my flow uh they say it got special needs, I’m talking Ritalin, maybe even Adderall, 4 bars from me would probably kill your whole catalog, 16 would make Deborah Lee cut the channel off, 32 would make Paul Bunyan take the flannel off, 64 would make your mama want 60 more
I eat haters check the crumbs on my kitchen floor
They say my music’s pop, I call buying cribs for my mama shaking hands with Obama
& if you don’t believe me go online and check the pic, and if you check my flip cam you’ll see your sister in a flick, I’m perfect from the field it’s like I can’t miss
I’m on a rant like Durant no pick no assist, yall tripping on TIP, get off my man neck
I’m just saying Martha Stewart left prison in a jet
(Big K.R.I.T.)
M.I crooked slay that, been killing beats since adapt, yeah me and rhymes go way back, way back
Time machine flow when I was swanging and ridin, if you ain’t repping for your people then you’re shucking and jiving, tap dancing and slidin to beat that you can’t comprehend
How dare you speak on where I’m from if you ain't never been
Fried kool-aid who made never ate that in fact, grandma was chefing for real made meals off love and scraps
Thank God for my country folk and family, instead of a metaphor I’d rather take it by James Anderson, damaging how the televised basketball wives, and not tornadoes in the south and how we lost lives
Still rebuilding, pray for the children that have no hero, only the villains that tell them get money, sleep when you die I find it funny, because when you rest in peace don’t mean fast asleep in slumber, Thank God and stay humble
(Tech N9ne)
Real rock rap and not to Xerox, weird not
Enough to make you fear a lot from here watch
I ran scrimmaged and I fought to the damn finish’d
And I popped eyes open without eating me canned spinach
My fans in it constantly telling me I can win it
If I stand grimace damaging man every damn minute
I blend then expands quick it scrams wicked rhyme
Grand spittage, ham wit it, FAM dig its N9ne!
Yeah, hard to see me like the background
Your rap styles coming softer than a cat’s meow
Red laces but booted like I’m Iraq bound
That frown will get you ate by my cannibal from sac town
Triple axe pal, pat down, gat down, bat down, blackout
With a fat smile I might react fowl, so don’t make this cat growl
I caught everybody when I spazzed wow, who do I catch now!
(Machine Gun Kelly)
Cleveland what up!
Yeah, Kells uh Cobains back, I smell like teen spirit man Cobains back
I got these teens screaming like Cobains back, you try me and I’ll make you a legend like Cobain’s strap Blaat yeah, they say I’m wasting my time where the watch at how he got that
They say it wasn’t my time where the watch at, now watch that
Speed of my syllables rhymes better clock that, stop that Bad Boy gave me the contract and I dot that
Now who the heck is this, with his pants red as 666 all up in your girlfriend’s twitpics
That eastside boy up out the 216, that’s making these other rappers get Melo like the Knicks eh Get you spitters huck to finished, and when yall win the game and the cypher was a scrimmage, so everybody gossiping tell a friend that I’m pitching how this white boy just bodied Black entertainment television now lace up!
(Kendrick Lamar)
Pushing a hoopty bumping the fugees, my life is a scary movie your live is a male groupie
Kendrick Lamar broke the handle with 22 Uzi’s stuffed it in my mouth & cack,cack,cack killed the rappers that knew me. Compton’s most wanted I live my life in a dungeon
Came out of a dragon I can probably touch the sun with, my bare hands what are your plans to win a Grammy, sweet taste of victory like Oprah’s virginity
Don’t judge me that’s just some irony trust me I like to laugh and get lucky
My sense of humor is rumored to be a Gemini’s company come with me
In the planet rock and I plan to rock in a plantation chasing many legends that made it
Face it you will never be pac-10 even when the planet stop, I’m 2012 on a 12 inch
Aiming straight at your pelvis, Elvis would come back as a black if you was hot, you’re just a mascot on a Kim Kardashian ass shot
(B.O.B)
Full blooded pedigree, prize fighter special breed, my flow uh they say it got special needs, I’m talking Ritalin, maybe even Adderall, 4 bars from me would probably kill your whole catalog, 16 would make Deborah Lee cut the channel off, 32 would make Paul Bunyan take the flannel off, 64 would make your mama want 60 more
I eat haters check the crumbs on my kitchen floor
They say my music’s pop, I call buying cribs for my mama shaking hands with Obama
& if you don’t believe me go online and check the pic, and if you check my flip cam you’ll see your sister in a flick, I’m perfect from the field it’s like I can’t miss
I’m on a rant like Durant no pick no assist, yall tripping on TIP, get off my man neck
I’m just saying Martha Stewart left prison in a jet
