CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Cypha
Nick Wiz ft. Cella Dwellas ft. Sean Price - “Cypha”
Duke, don’t even get your crew amped
Them dudes can’t f**k with Dwellas and Boot Camp—bet you
Cash or food stamps some real street action figures
Come complete with big gats and triggers
Big caps for n***as. Duck Down when these soldiers
Come around. Bucktown is where I rest
So hold me down. Check my man P—he sells
Caravans for cheap, wrecks beef with techniques
That’s antique. Let this man speak and spit raps
Then kickback and eat a KitKat whilе you chitchat
On how my sh*t’s wack. CDs don’t stop
‘Til the end. And run, go tell your friеnd. f**k it, and we’re
Coming again (Ha!)
Ayyo, you can’t manage this
The boss scandalous from here to Los Angeles
Ruckus tossing the random sh*t, but can you get with that n***a
Tawl Sean manuscript? Man, you sh*t all up in your pants
When the cannon click. Man, I flip on n***as
For no apparent reason, squeezing shots at you heathens
To stop you from breathing. Call the cops ‘cause he’s bleeding
I think he needs some CPR. See, we are the illest n***as
Out that’s on your TV, pa. When you see me, pa
Better have your f**king sh*t straight. You’re fifth, mate. Nobody move
I think your sh*t fake, you fishcake. Whenever the f**k
Ruck dictate, the sh*t rate higher than shows
Made by Rick Lake. Yo, lick eight shots at
Them n***as who be f**king with international, Irrational
B-I-G Ruckus, b*t*h. Enough of this talking. I’m ready
To start setting sh*t. Peep the etiquette of a n***a
That’s known for wetting sh*t
UG bodies tracks
I whip cats like blacks in Amistad
Hold gats like guards in armored cars, I rip
Squads with Ruck and ‘em, Rock put a slug in ‘em
If we wasn’t rap stars, we’d be mugging ‘em
f**k that. I bust gats, son, I’m reckless
When the TEC spits, it drops squares like Tetris
Trample like Jerome Bettis, rap specialist
You’ll think John Woo directed it the way I edit sh*t
With gunplay, my funds stay stacked, n***a
One day, I’ll sway in Ac’ Vigors
My back to the track, n***as, I’ll slap n***as tasteless
A Masta like Ace is with rap pages—what?!?
Duke, don’t even get your crew amped
Them dudes can’t f**k with Dwellas and Boot Camp—bet you
Cash or food stamps some real street action figures
Come complete with big gats and triggers
Big caps for n***as. Duck Down when these soldiers
Come around. Bucktown is where I rest
So hold me down. Check my man P—he sells
Caravans for cheap, wrecks beef with techniques
That’s antique. Let this man speak and spit raps
Then kickback and eat a KitKat whilе you chitchat
On how my sh*t’s wack. CDs don’t stop
‘Til the end. And run, go tell your friеnd. f**k it, and we’re
Coming again (Ha!)
Ayyo, you can’t manage this
The boss scandalous from here to Los Angeles
Ruckus tossing the random sh*t, but can you get with that n***a
Tawl Sean manuscript? Man, you sh*t all up in your pants
When the cannon click. Man, I flip on n***as
For no apparent reason, squeezing shots at you heathens
To stop you from breathing. Call the cops ‘cause he’s bleeding
I think he needs some CPR. See, we are the illest n***as
Out that’s on your TV, pa. When you see me, pa
Better have your f**king sh*t straight. You’re fifth, mate. Nobody move
I think your sh*t fake, you fishcake. Whenever the f**k
Ruck dictate, the sh*t rate higher than shows
Made by Rick Lake. Yo, lick eight shots at
Them n***as who be f**king with international, Irrational
B-I-G Ruckus, b*t*h. Enough of this talking. I’m ready
To start setting sh*t. Peep the etiquette of a n***a
That’s known for wetting sh*t
UG bodies tracks
I whip cats like blacks in Amistad
Hold gats like guards in armored cars, I rip
Squads with Ruck and ‘em, Rock put a slug in ‘em
If we wasn’t rap stars, we’d be mugging ‘em
f**k that. I bust gats, son, I’m reckless
When the TEC spits, it drops squares like Tetris
Trample like Jerome Bettis, rap specialist
You’ll think John Woo directed it the way I edit sh*t
With gunplay, my funds stay stacked, n***a
One day, I’ll sway in Ac’ Vigors
My back to the track, n***as, I’ll slap n***as tasteless
A Masta like Ace is with rap pages—what?!?
