DJ Premier - TeamBackPack Cypher 3 lyrics

[Verse 1: Hopsin] Save yourself and make way for hell, I'm leaving haters dealt Chopped up and laid across a conveyor belt Got some Febreze to take away the smell Sick of my curious neighbours Coming up to my front door to ring the bell Being famous ruined all of my plans Should have thought in advance When I'm outside, I'm a target for fans Now I gotta walk through the mall with a mask Talk to your man just like I got a stick caught up my a** You see I no longer have a life Just a nasty appetite Searchin' p**nographic sites Lookin' up hermaphrodites Filthy when I grab the mic Look at all this madness I bring to these other MC's Ye, it's a tragic site Strap you in the car, hit the gas to the max Hit it straight into a wall Jump out last minute so you crash in it Cops will find your body and your wallet With no cash in it Ye, I'm that wicked, f** a nice guy Your a** trippin' The next rapper to tell me I'm corny's gonna die gory Or spun in a 540 off of five stories And splat in a lot full of by-standers And that's gon' happen to anybody Who ain't living by my standards I'm the magnificent black militant rap villain My craft's diligent so these cats mimic it Cash is mad long like the shaft that I smash women with And I was half asleep in my pad when my a** scribbled this Ye, Funk Volume [Verse 2: Jarren Benton] Throw a load of laundry in this b**h Hey yo, I snort the same 'caine as Whitney I cut open my skull and told the doc "b**h, this brain don't fit me" You wonder why a n***a's so deranged and empty Sharpen a toothbrush, stick the blade through your kidney And they be like "Hopsin, why the hell is he on Funk Volume?" Yeah I get it, eat a dick b**h, f** all you While you was talking sh** on that laptop We were selling out shows and stackin' up mad gwop Funk Volume, n***a, got the game on padlock You was raped by your uncle and mad cause your dad watched Now all he do is hide behind the mouse The only time he leave his house To put dick inside his mouth b**h, you should practice more suicide Your life's pathetic, do us all a favor dude and die n***a, no one believes you You should k** your mom cause she's the dumb b**h that conceived you Uh, and real n***a's don't relate to you When I get to heaven I'm slapping God for creatin' you When I go to hell I'm k**ing Satan for waitin' for you You incapable, to take it to where I take it, dude And life's great, b**h, I'm feeling fine Your girl's backstage giving us the ill mind Hooray for the tough guy on twitter You so gay you sh** condoms and ejaculate glitter And f**in' with my clique, dog, is danger Numb my right arm and I give myself a stranger You can hate, but it's bad for your health Here, take the spiked bat, b**h, f** yourself b*tch [Verse 3: Dizzy Wright] Uh, I heard a hater calling me a liar I took him to the laundromat and shoved 'em in a dryer Anybody steppin' to us steppin' straight into a fire It's that Wu-Tang thirty-six chambers sh**, partner Twenty-one and active, one year, two tours Only 702 rapper that ever made it this far But this for the doors that I opened up for Vegas I'm penetrating, history in the making You like Denzel in action, you probably a good guy But we only see you actin' I see the laziness and I can sense the lack of pa**ion I'm confident cause I was always comfortable with practice Lemme get at 'em, grab a rapper by his throat He make a dis, I kick his f**ing adams apple down his throat He thought it was a joke Clowns hide behind posts until we tied 'em to the boat And dragged his a** across the coast Now I done spoken my approach a little different He seen Hop' dissin so he figured he could get it But it's hard to be a rapper when you don't fit the descriptions So you tried to be a target and only became a victim n***a [Verse 4: SwizZz] Look, went on a nation wide tour now I'm back in the West Actin' a mess, cougar huntin', getting moms to undress Showing their breasts, soaking wet, begging me to have s** While daughters doing the same thing, flashin' her chest It's a family affair, losing my sanity here Tryna cope liquored up, mixin' the dark and the clear I'm gettin' buzzed like a sub reading Vanity Fair Debate getting a s** change pretending I care But I should but, f**, I'm trying to bu*t f** A tranny and lucked up or get my nuts s**ed From the back, at a bar in a bathroom stall While Mr. Benton got the GoPro directing it all Gimme a call if you wanna chat I'm in the lab, breaking bad, cooking mounds of crack SwizZzle Wright, n***a Missed the first two but got another strike, n***a Three Z's, grab a sleeping bag, goodnight n***as