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Cypher Part 2 Feat. Horse Shoe GANG & Royce da 5’9’’ Lyrics
Cypher Part 2  Feat. Horse Shoe GANG & Royce da 5’9’’ Lyrics

[Crooked I]
YO…you niggas making them Vibe articles, best rappers alive
Y’all niggas don’t know what the FUCK y’all talking bout
But my niggas can…
Ladies and G-G-G-G-G-Gentlemen!
You rememeber when…niggas had to know how to rhyme?
Way back...
This the Cypher 2
It aint for you radio niggas – HUHAH!

[Demetrius Capone]
We the best spittin, best living, or dead
I write fly shit, like kites sent to the feds
To battle niggas inside prison, listen, I’ve been spittin
Them death sentences for a life sentences and yep
Niggas die behind bars, I mean die behind shit that I said
I guess I’m like Mike Vick in the head
I kill niggas who think they bite vicious
But you a female dog, that’s why y’all like bitchin instead
I think of hot shit like pyrokinesis,
Speaking of kinesis, with psychokinesis I'm squeezing a rifle,
Leaving no prints and I stole your pieces
And leave u without arms like the Venus di Milo
Jesus Christ, he can squeeze with his eyes closed
Or blindfolded, and knock a fly off a guy’s nose
Spittin liquid nitro, cardiac or ?cardier?
Either way my tanker’s ice cold

[Julius Luciano]
I’ll get a .45 if you test me, and I don’t mean a low score
The ratchet, let you have it, like I don’t need it no more
I’m so great, I roast these emcees for dough, eh
Then donate, the proceeds to your team, now go pay
A ghostwriter ok, your flow seems to need some more flavor
Now go play, and don’t speak to me, I’m so vain
I’m boast, I’m low key, conceited
I don’t even put Do, Re, before Me, you see
I don’t see no way, like dope fiends you need
A hit of my spit, when dose leave you weak
Something that sounds like “oh-een-een”
Should go hear but naw
Switch it up, don’t care I’m raw
Its no fair for y’all
I flow so rare there’s no error of flaws
Oh yeah, beef, wanna go there, then draw
BANG! Man, that gat scar niggas
I blow ya to Madagascar nigga!

[Dice Dinero]
Who wanna fuck with this raw nigga?
I come thru at night
And snatch ya life
I Shoot ya bitch, that’s how I Mac your wife
Then shoot her again in the afterlife
See Ima problem, you beef to eat your zone
I’ll eat your soul
When I go into an ether zone, Im on the Eastside of Long Beach
I’m the beast you don’t see, the Grim Reaper’s clone
Give me a pen, a pad, and a microphone
And you can wind up with ya muhfuckin speakers blown
My flow is acid, my spit’s sulfuric
I bury you with the lyrics beneath Earth’s lift its finger disappearing
Listen here, its crystal clear, my shots will lift your soul, I mean lift your spirit
Cause every bar in my arsenal is arsenic, attract arsonist
When I’m armed with arctic spit
Don’t nobody want it like heavy smokers my gun’s most likely loaded
Call it the morgue, cause it holds carcasses

[Kenny Siegal]
Brap-Brap Pack, we the best round
Fuck 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 hard, who gon try to spot a spec with bad vision
So niggas might wanna be easy, like fast bitches
Im past wicked, slash vicious, if we clash
I blast clips and leave your presence in the past like last Christmas
You’ll get erased by a gorilla for rilla, eh
With the steel that I conceal, I can seal your fate
Skip your wake, I’ll bury while you’re still awake
I put niggas in they place as if I’m in real estate
My clique ??beep?? we skate in circles on some cold shit as if we tryna figure skate
And pull off a figure eight
I don’t think ya men straight, naw, I think y’all menstruate
I put holes in you like the figure eight, leave your figure ate

[Royce Da 5’9’’]
The Horse Shoe GANG
You from Long Beach or Detroit, boy, annoyed, of course shoot, BANG!
Look at that bugatti, look at the body on that passenger
Take ya top off and then body the bottom half of ya
If its drama Ima take the whole family out
Maxwell Sheffield, that’s right I'll take ya nanny out
I beat that drum boy, Im like Travis Barker with that AK-47
But I be deep in that spot tho
I got my Mexican chick, bout to go put my beef in her taco
Pardon my candor
But anytime I was asked a question, a gun spark was my answer
Pull your tool out, we aint in here with fakers
We can turn this into Cleveland vs. The Lakers
Heha…A shoot out, death I rule out
Yes, we way too busy, murkin your crew out

[Crooked I]
I’m the nigga u should call when when kicking the raw written
I mastered what yall call spitting
My ice cold sentence is frost bitten
I’m shitting on yall gripping the sawed off
You a lost kitten getting ya 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 Lazie get Krayzie Bizzy so the bullets move in Harmony thru ya Bone and ya Flesh
A super-villain I’m ill as bizzaro I'll kill ya tomorrow
Then a niggas chillin in Kilimanjaro
How many bullets from the steel are you willing to borrow
You dying to ride, fuck it, I’ll lend u 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, niggas think I’m on a Bluetooth

Pig Face Nigga!

got a bit carried away with the ad-libs/talking at the start...
took a while, I chose this track just cuz its got HSG in it
this can be moved to teh Crooked I sections, since it is in fact his track
Thanks man. Props +1
Props homie, nice
thanks, Im thinking of doing another one, but not sure

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