2015 XXL Freshman Cypher Pt. 1

Lyrics

[Intro: Kidd Kidd] Uh-huh [Verse 1: Kidd Kidd] People count your blessings, they don't see when you stressin' Follow me on Instagram, look like I'm in heaven Told my baby momma I'll have it in a second You think she tryna hear that shit? My flow is a weapon, I'm on every record tryna kill that shit I'm hot as piss, but I'm still not shit Got off the road with 50 Cent, Kidd, you still not rich? But I'ma serve these dimes 'til I pit that brick If my life was a disc, I'd skip that shit, nigga Roaches crawling on me in my sleep Shake 'em out the sheets, the toilet never worked And the faucet always leaked, ain't nothin' in here to eat Around them heroin addicts who shoot up in the veins of they feet That shit gave us the jeepers creeps But a nigga had to get it though I wasn't a d-boy by choice, I had to get this dough I mean, they needed a hit and I was ready, go They needed a fix and I was really broke With that white, I could whip a miracle I swear this rap shit is a miracle He was cool with you, had to kill him for? Only the man in the mirror know Situation's getting critical Another child is born, I'm hoping he's identical, really though One of you niggas know who the fuck hit my package Hundred-dollar slab, tryna stretch it like elastic Man, trappin' got me trapped in Macho man, Randy, I'm a savage I took what I could salvage Nigga, who the fuck laughing? Since elementary, out the penitentiary chances Over your Nike Airs, I'ma leave you gasping Who the fuck laughing? Man [Interlude 1: K CAMP] Slum Shout-out to Northside, look [Verse 2: K Camp] If you know me, you know I give two fucks Two forks, making meals like a food truck I'm the new wave, nigga, I'm the new wave Sit back and watch the kid like a Blu-ray Been making hits, nigga, Bobby Boucher I been workin', I ain't called my bitch in 'bout two days I could make your bitch go more than two ways You better update your roster like you're playing 2K, huh Light another blunt, take another sip That nigga still cuffin', he connected at the hip Strap stay with me, I'm connected with the clip Let a nigga get wrong, I'm connected with the grip Leader of the new school, but you been knew Do it for the village like a nigga Hindu Popping big shit like I'm standing 10'2" She said she like it K way, well, shit, bring a friend too [Interlude 2: Tink] Let's go [Verse 3: Tink] I normally wouldn't do this on a regular day But since the time is of the essence, I'ma grace you with my presence From the city where they sleep you like some Nyquil should Where them niggas give you wings quicker than Red Bull would Quick on my feet, I gotta eat, so I'm no longer on the healthy tip Tryna make my dough extend, longer than a selfie stick Self-employed nigga, but I'm no Dame Dash Top of my class, I ball without a shot in my ass Without a doubt, these niggas rubbing off like Henna They go behind your back and cross you like a pair of suspenders They parent trap these women and leave 'em hanging like a tree leaf Keef drop a record the only time they wanna be some real BDs I read up on these new school rappers Half of 'em not rappin', let's eliminate the fraction I'm a multi-talented individual, you know that I'm potent I make the game hold still like it's a Kodak moment Like the Kodak slogan, to get the cheese is the mission When you work like how I work, you take the boss's position Huh, I'm going off like 106 Gotta cancel all these niggas, they sensitive as a bitch More sensitive than my tits, and you ain't even got bite I pull a Kanye and strip any nigga from his mic That's just Chicago up in me, trained to blow, so please Don't make my fuckin' city get windy, I make these niggas get dizzy for real But I'ma feed the people bars like they need rehabilitation Let's not get wet up like some April-ass precipitation I'm only here to make the music Inspire every kid that was told that they couldn't do shit, uh I told God to have some mercy on niggas Way I flow over the beat, I'm like a mermaid to the streets Call me Tink though, Tink flow killing shit, go put your vest up I run the MCs I should change my name to Rev Run 'Cause hip-hop ain't been the same since Pac died Way these niggas actin', they should be Atlanta housewives Maybe that's the reason I'm in love with the slow jams Wouldn't feel you niggas, even if we had to hold hands And even if they throw bands, I still wouldn't budge Niggas ain't on shit and, really, I don't give a fuck You know, if, even if they throw bands, I still wouldn't move Think Tink, realest nigga repping 3-1-2 It's Think Tink, young Queen, [sewing?] back to the [breeze?] Do it with poise, making noise with these African beads You know what's up [Interlude 3: Raury] Yo [Verse 4: Raury] I'm back and crusading, industry is wack and deflated Crack, and we cave in tryna get our ass on the station But fuck the fans and all the favorites, I'm smacking your ratings I give a fuck like George Bush did for African babies Back to the basic, nigga, are you Black or Jamaican? Rap is outdated, boy, you shoulda just graduated And, yeah, I coulda went to school, go to college and make it To be a slave to a man that is fat and Caucasian Councils of Satan want me in the studio, making Shit to keep your ass asleep like don't nobody else make it But, boy, keep your eyes wide, God himself speaks in signs The number one reason is that East Atlanta is changing Yep, Georgia, little north of Florida South of Tennessee, we'll take your number, what's your order? Let me get your ticket, take it to the chef Bring it to your front porch, door, stoop, or step Yep, I'm Hugh Hef' 'cause I got all the bunnies I been had them bunnies like I'm brown or white, it's honey Don't talk to me money, try to say it's cause I'm money Sonny, I been had them bunnies since way before I had a punny, haha Bring tips and cash to me, actually bring it back to me now Milking the game, swag of a fucking cow Swag of a fucking goat, bigger each word I mutter You mad? Just go harder but watch the names that you utter 'Cause I used to be a kid in the back of a school bus full of black Bad ass kids, doing that bad ass shit when the teacher say something, talk back Now I spit shit like a yak or a llama, people think I'm God 'cause I got a couple commas And my songs are proof, that I'm Dalai like Lama, but I'm just a teenager with a MAC And that's that