2 Chainz - Hip Hop Awards: Uncut cypher lyrics

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2 Chainz - Hip Hop Awards: Uncut cypher lyrics

[Verse 1: Reek Da Villain] Aye yo weak minded b**hes fall victim because my charm's strong jazzy pair of louis on my feet Chewy Armstrong Ma couldn't be my cheerleader with platinum pom-poms she the type to misrepresent a king like Lebron's mom Beating on my chest with a crown King Kong Don Langston Hughes I write a poem that do the Bible psalms harm These other rappers want problems then bring it on umm this rapping beef is nothing my studio's in its long form and all cowards'll become victims of man Keep a 5th of Remy and a stick of piff in my hand yeh they fly but I'm a pilot that no one can understand plus the way I go ham'll make a m**m say damn Hustle hard trips to Miami for three days so I can meet with the connects and get the D Wade run up in the Gucci store and drop 3k you bum I could get your whole outfit out of BJ's Lyrical scientist leaving mics with psoriasis so it's [bleeped] as Michael Myer's psychiatrist pyrics suppliacist who being lying stiff when the iron spits I come alone just me and one 9 Johnny [Unitis] And let my b**h serenade through these slums and blow so much loud I need a hearing aid for my lungs And as far as metaphors rate this I was a snail ‘til haters threw salt on me and I dissolved into greatness [Verse 2: 2 Chainz] What goes around comes around like a hula hoop. Hair weave k**a I'll show up to your funeral All this work I need a cubicle. Clear coat cuticle. Different color diamonds like a rubrics cube If this was New Edition, I'll be Bobby Brown. Put the check over your head and call it Nike Town How could I be down? Free Boosie, wipe me down. My credit card is black and proud I've been trapping since roxies had the ankles out. I'm going to the money and I took the paper route Uh Yeh, I'm hood approved and I'm street tested. You a nobody; anorexic If you stay next to me you're close to a blessing. So, I'm guessin' I could get arrested for aggravated flexin' with all this ice on. My mic on, I apply pressure like a python. And everybody know this that body flow; bench press, cardio. They try to cramp a n***a style like a Charlie horse Yeh, they plot on you, and they drop on ya. I put a Glock to your eye and call it glaucoma Bow! From 30 nights of sipping dirty Sprite. I call this sh** Bluetooth because I don't need a mic. 2Chainz