2006 BET Hip Hop Awards - Cypher 1

Lyrics

[Intro: Styles P] B.E.T., get your recorders You are rockin' with the Ghost, Papoose and Lupe the skateboarder Welcome to the cypher, the beginnin' of rap Before record deals, first I'ma toss it to Pap' [Verse 1: Papoose] Over one hundred soldiers died this month; I drop info Out of a hundred, the majority was negroes George Bush is on a roll like a round hero They still findin' human remains at Ground Zero They found 'em in the sewers, yeah, it shows, aw, man yo I guess that's why they call it a manhole When we say B.E.T, we ain't tryna spell bet Black Entertainment, Papoose is the best Nacirema, wait 'til my album drop He hop up, I clap him in his hip, you can call it hip-hop Rappers be actin' like they tougher than they really is So I sit 'em in wheelchairs like Jada Pinkett kids You was puttin' your sneakers on the wrong feet When Papoose was reppin' for the streets, magnifique You might as well face your defeat, look, partner I had you lookin' at defeat like a foot doctor [Verse 2: Lupe Fiasco] Uh They say the game has the belly of a beast Blunts for fingers and hollow tips for teeth Wiretaps for ears; Nike Airs for feet Blasphemy for prayers; the system for a heart Rap music for beats; heroin for the son And he's married to the streets; crack pipes for lungs And he never sleeps, just spies with dice in his eyes Love life, 'cause he like when it dies With baking soda soul he cough up pleasure Clothes made out of dollar bills that he sewed together He knows he's clever, jail is his house All the liquor that pours out and goes right in his mouth Rides around on a stray bullet with prostitutes Pimps, dope dealers and killers tied to it to pull it TV in his head, strippers slide down his legs And he known to ride around with the Feds He's out there, out there, out there, out there, out there, son [Verse 3: Styles P] Don't call me Ghost no more, call me The Phantom Real brothers love him, street brothers understand him This is for the man with his hand on his Cannon Right at this moment, I know we need atonement But Malcolm is dead, and Martin is dead The gun is the barber, let me know who want a part in their head And I'm back to the clip, filled the top, ill grill with a bop Police comin' through, kids steal a rock I don't give an F like I wanna die cause I'm gon' die You too, figure, don't boo who, figure Wanna play the game, find out whose who, figure After you do that, find out whose true, figure Lot of brothers died over BS, nonsense School of hard-knocks, no parent teacher conference Gotta learn the rules real fast, move fast Stand up and mash or they know that you ass [Outro: Styles P, Papoose] Yeah, yeah Before there was radio, before there were videos Before there were magazines, point the cameras down This what it was the cypher Three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, the cypher Show y'all cats how to rhyme, man