Clyde Strokes - Kaj Kadence, Pa**ionate MC, Denzil Porter, VI Seconds | LAX to JFK lyrics

[Intro] Wa**up teambackpack? This is the cypher Live in Brooklyn Let's get it (teambackpack . net) [Intro to verse 1] Check, cash, Brooklyn, uhh Vietnam, forties, Flatbush Check, check, yo, yo, yo [Verse 1: Kaj Kadence] Who would've thought this young Brooklyn brat Carolina fad, knuckle head Would get ahead in life Boy, my name good in every hood Like fried chicken that's been breaded twice Lucky ba*tard You would think this n***a happened Shooting craps with loaded dice I know the sh** I'm saying is grizzly But bear with me From the city where the cubs is griddy And bears semis Hittin' ya poad aplenty Enemy souls be empty n***as deep in the Lincoln I'll pop your head for a penny Love thy profit Make change on ya dolly Cause n***as is dime dropping Gotta watch 'em, that's a fact Fayetteville summertime n***as got no chill Pupils k** for the thrill So I Keese my eyes on 'em like Jack He would've known where the rappers at We underground in the nap sacks So what that mean, these n***as, teambackpack So back back Living Legends split your lower half Get your a** cracked, scrap Trying to live up to that gas Let that sh** go 'fore n***as catch you slippin' With the pump-up at the Citgo That's how it go, with this pencil I'll be f**ing up your mental My credentials? presidential verses Matter of fact this ain't a verse b**h it's attempted murder Waging jihad on infidels Who dont believe in this God I'm Allah, I'm Krishna, no I'm Jah b**h, I'm Ra Think I'm Horus, think I'm Set Blowing Buddah, Jesus Christ Show me Judas, swear to you I'll f**ing do 'em with a ruger On some grown man dolly sh** Hoes who know me Know I'd rather sh** my own hand Before a piece of a phony Tenderoanies hit the phone I only answer if it's money Or that crew from lakay No matter how hard you try You cannot do this like I Thinking you can catch up? Motherf**er, I switch gears b**h n***a, I've been here Bad boy, this is my big year First cypher had the world wondering: "who the f** was that in the Knicks gear?" Coming from that burrow With them n***as get wild cheese Even though the D's never leave the block Like Styles P f** it, I think it's time that they crown me Brooklyn, you birth me, Vietnam North khaki nursed me [Intro to verse 2] Ye, whaddup everybody? Hi, my name is Pa**ionate MC (teambackpack . net) Look [Verse 2: Pa**ionate MC] I'm the reason these lames ain't breathing The same reason that Kane kept his face secret I maintain with insane demons The rage, aimin' and squeezing to bang Like it's gang season You don't wanna cross sabers with Darth Vader My short temper leave families at funerals with long faces Call your wife She knows what the back of the car was like When I start her up She just blows to exhaust the pipe Now I know why you're mad with it When her vag' Splitted to ‘em See pash' in it/Pa**ionate Lean with it, rock with it I leave the scene when the shots hit it And make it seem like the cops did it Shock n***as, drop n***as And tear the block with ya' Glock gripper Look you in the face and then: pop, n***a! Oh, I can't wait to hear the f**in' screams When I lift and catch bodies like a trampoline I used to be an all-star rap athlete Football never thought me and rap with me I ran a 4-3-40 yard dash with ease And even then they couldn't keep up On the track with me Psycho Fully automatic rifle spittin' psychic vision Really want to get ‘em with the right precision Ready on the enemy with heightened vision Single-handedly sniped you b**hes From such a stifling distance The record would be too extensive to write for Guinness Uh, and now they mad cause my rap buzz Well if you wanna battle put a stack and a half up And if you think that's the reason right now I'll free-style off of the top To get it down n***as know that it's that time When I get it in One punch from this chump' Make ya fitted spin Yeah! [Intro to verse 3] (teambackpack . net) Hold up Now you know is your boy, Denzil Porter Rappers in that Bronx, New York The Bronx, New York can't forget the "the" Forgot the "the" last time, teambackpack [Verse 3: Denzil Porter] 2 38 white plains, represent the north side Big 34 5 hidden behind that door prize If I ain't in the building Probably too small of a door size Been k**ing rappers behind these bars Probably get more time So sour while I soar by No church, but I got royal ties Then they kid nap, you get kidnapped And then thin maggots tell wall flies What they gon' do When I put two 38's up Like the score's tied Most of the openers in your state Should've been tour guys I don't force mine Be elevatin' people Like I'm the fourth kind Two-face n***as, no difference I'm looking all 4 eyes Yeah we heard ya Just look like a burger With all them small fries You're a kid's meal I need your whole city I need it all mine No matter where you reside or rest You'll snap back fitted I make sure you heard of mine Like: "that's that cat that did it" You feelin' froggy then ribbit You wanna scrap, let's get it Just know my homies come packed Like that hatch back civic, BUT YOU! Just a regular life By the way your crew is a** We should call you cellu-light I can't b**h about my problems I know dudes that do life I know they wished they had my problems So for you I do right But if you do wanna meet my boots I might go back to my roots n***as claim that they got the wisdom That's the back of your tooth n***as claim they spit that real sh** But what they lacking is truth Papa's a rolling stone But I leave my hat in a booth Meet him at the loot And I'm just not the one stand to Shine so bright, theirs can't move Box with all fours like a kangaroo Near-d**h Is just a sample of my wrath So far ahead of my path Is what I can do Y'all couldn't pick up speed Even if it came with a handle Click-click, came to jam you Have you jammin' and you Let's keep jammin' like [?] With good rapping and bamboo Getting pounds like hands do Staying fresh like canned food That b**h think she the sh** See what all them rears do Can't stand dudes That's why I'm in and out of their homes Spoiling these b**hes Expect them to be strong on their own All in they phones Searching, tryin' to see what all her letters 'bout If fourth down, she wanna kick it Just to spread it out? They say stay in your lane But I'm taking that Find a better route Life's a b**h Tied up in my basement I won't let her out When I get in the building, they piss They gettin' ratted out Cause n***as must've thought the were sick They're feeling better now It's Porter [Intro to verse 4] (teambackpack . net) I go by the name Vi Seconds The red one himself I ain't got much to say I just came to rap [Verse 4: Shizzy Sixx/Vi Seconds] Momma always told me to watch the way I operate Well if I catch you eatin Best believe that Imma cop your plate Out to cop the top estate In the hottest state Since your eyeballs and my balls Cuz I ball, tell me how these taste I'll molly wop your face Then get blood on my loose leaf Your broad came in new jeans Then she came with bruised knees If I could manifest these bars through a person It's Bruce Lee I'm hearing they love the new me From people that never knew me The pristine problem I'm poppin', you play possum The dominant, prominent With a punch I unearth fossils A powerful sovereign Known sweetheart, if you've met me Wavy with the illest cuts That's Sweeney Todd on a jet ski Beams on, if it sees y'all You'll begone to the next week These retards will get launched off a see saw They test me I'm a heavy wieght, y'all light Mad cause you can't off me All these flavors to choose from But you choose to be salty Uh, That's a damn shame I slam dames in the fast lane I'm blastin it at ya gas tank And that's word to my last name Ask Ab Soul Lyrical a**hole Addicted to rappin' and smash bros I'm ill You can't buy respect So you can miss me with your cash flows Need a ta**el Alumni, you reaching to be an undergrad You still think you can see me? Honestly boy, it's f**ing sad Reach for the sky I guess being honest This is a promise If you reach for the star You gettin' struck with a comet Comitted to this homicide This thing by my side spits Suicide Sixx the highest Grade of dope To glide in your sinus, the finest Refer to me as your highness So I'm really k**ing y'all f** k**ing y'all with kindness Red