King Los - Cypher lyrics

[Verse 1: Kid Ink] Yeah I said its Kid Ink baby Turned to the max like TJ Body tagged up like the bottom of the freeway Game on lock, you n***as need to get a key made Run this sh** and it ain't nothing but a relay And ain't nothing you can tell us About to roll up, kush sticky like Elmer's This ain't no how I act like summa Going head up with me, bring a motherf**ing helmet You n***as just special ed All I see is green but my eyes so red And all I do is win, got a room full of clouds About to take another shot but I'm used to the fouls I'm ballin', you could take two to the mouth It's alumni, throw it up, two to the south Tell them deuces, just put two in the air So sick, said it must be the flu in the air If you do it big then I probably did it obese Thought it was a dream but I never get no sleep Up all night getting higher then the nose bleed Swear I was raised by a beast like Mogli Came from the bottom, rats and the roaches Now a n***a's blunts sitting as fat as my roaches Bout to go ham, you n***as just kosher I'm a shark in the water, see the fin and it's over [Verse 2: Meek Mill] b**h They were sleeping on me Time for me to wake them up Counting all these f**ing benjys 'Til I get a paper cut k** the competition, I embalm em then I make em up Only time we Black and Yellow when the caution tape is up Ha, that record dead, Memory of Spitting that crack This really is d** It's hate in the air I ain't feeling the love You like an irritating fly I'm k**ing your buzz I'm eating the beat This is Pac-Man I'm on the grind like a motherf**ing lap dance Shorty gon' do whatever Say she's a rap fan Every n***a around me robbin', Batman All black coupes All black wheels Step out the line, I'm a show you how that MAC feel I'm like C. Bailey in the corner of that backfield Wrong move will get your motherf**ing cap pilled Rolling and then swerving Engine purrin' through your neighborhood Let my money do the talking I ain't gotta say I'm good Homies that'll gun you down I ain't gotta say I would Riding like an engine b**h I ain't gotta say I'm hood I tell a ho to follow me or swallow me I be spending money Like I f**ing hit the lottery If I ever hit your girl Then this is my apology Cause s**ers that be tripping about these b**hes Tryna body me [Verse 3: Los] I'm about to go Rope around my arm Needle in it I could feel it now Towel round my head Taliban knock the building down High co*k blocker I'm a fly top shotter In my all red rims Like a high top Prada On my mommas mouth to the drama And lies would be gripping from my lips As I'm spitting that sh** that Osama be gripping Hungry as a poverty stricken Robbery victim With a roscoes waffles and chickens Winning lottery ticket And your girl let me pop it in real life I beat it like they locked me in a room With the doctor that k**ed Mike I feel like, put me in a field let the field lights Shine on the field now watch me k** all the field mice I'm anthrax you tampax I'm about to go Amtrax Jack Black black Jack Got the track saran wrap Stand back I'm slamming an antagonist Slapping you f*ggots putting the can in a bandwagon Swag of the century, mack and the bench of three I hear it was nothing trying to crack it eventually Rappers they mention me Boy I put this on my mother You will end up in the scope (interscope) Im jus trynna warn a brother (warner brother) Still getting cheescake on these dummies Deal or no deal I got a briefcase full of money Jahlil on the beat, Will hosting this sh** And its T-Lanez, Ink, Meek, and Los in this b**h [Verse 4: Tory Lanez] I get in the instrumental, like it a switch in the metal? The b**h in rental just positions my dick in her dental Y'all know my b**h is yellow bone, on yellow stone Double scoop, chocolate woman and my vanilla cone Yelling cause I'm very calm, yes I'm on the cherry bone? Things seem quicker than a ping hit ya berry phone Ya don't wanna talk about balling parallel larry homes Money never growing, like a f**ing young gary colmen Men veteran, batter up, batter in Its the N to you rappers, like the letter after M And im a Lamborghini n***a, n***a you can never see me Im the shhh, triple H, you gone have to pedigree me b**h im ready for the beef, like its some lettuce in between me You got inny meeny money, teeny like the youngest preemy And even if you n***as is crippin, still can never “C” me Or beat me with 3 wishes, and a motherf-cking genie Scared and they fare when I play a record on ya Weird and you squared, I could play checkers on ya Rappers, yall actors, and I rip this track till its “Tra”-”ck” I roller blade, let it ride, show my face, televise Dot to ya top, like the lower case letter I I fly higher that a sci fi flyer Fire like im 5 lighters, brighter than a high lighter Oops, im in a loop for time This a european whip check the coupe design Time is money is the money and the truth inside Goon shoot you in ya head make ya loose ya mind, fareal