PICK - Cycle lyrics

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PICK - Cycle lyrics

[Verse 1: Pick] If you a fiend for euphoria, my flow cleaner than Oxi There's Percs of Percoset right, we hurtin' em so affirmative Flown through turbulence, I guess its servin' me like I got a fork and a knife, my mind stirs when I'm fried I saw two birds in the sky when I was stoned I got deferred for a while, I shoulda known She was irkin' and flirtin', flippant and trippin' and fallin' In feelings, now she feelin' like she alone And now I think of myself in a different league She on the sidelines of the minors wit a hell of a team Sentenced me to like seven months of somethin' obscene You see what I mean when I say that she prefer the vet Never mind that, just a dime bag makin' my rhymes whack I'm high as a hi hat, tappin' a** more than an iPad (damn) Game locked, plus my chain long like a fatty acid Throw the finger to the white house while sippin' Sammy Adams Im not cold hearted, I'm icy Plus, your bag of blow look like a slight breeze Bought her some Adidas, but she only wants Nikes We show up to my uncle's bar wit fake ID's I code arrays, and after I take my array of blunts Call me a pyromaniac, when I'm lightin' em up Call me a Quaker when I'm spicin' it up Call me a chef when I'm slicin' it up, on your gram likin' it up And I might slide if I like you enough And if I do, kick back as I'm typin' it up Ironically I'm getting high for the low (sinnin') By 21 I hope that I can atone, but I just toked more tree than trig Who said my sine's whack, pray they plea the fifth [Verse 2: NxG] This beat kinda too fast But watch me turn it to a Rodney King master piece Beat the beat like you pussies will prolly beat your meat tonight Playing like a symphony Y'all need to get with it XPick amba**adors to dope sh** Fresh off the magic school bus and that's the cannabis So if you cannot stomach us, then do not come around as we start acting up Ms. Frizzle's had enough of our bent and out of shape rhymes While she matching em with dime baggies on the rags to riches grind Look, I stage my own interventions Momma still tripping like there's rope and she slipping up Lil n***a matched Pick with the verse Most of y'all n***as cotton soft Pick cotton, claiming your sh** is hot like slave back - doubt it When it comes to tic tac, X em off, minty fresh Rapping harder than pa**ing a drug test after interludes of blunt first word to the sentence Check it, oh sh** How the f** he do that? Cleaning up my sh**ty act like a janitor on the Aftermath of a Clan member on my back This a clash of them For this cla** act, got Dre knocking on my door, he wanna hear me rap My rhymes is sicker than diseases of the Chronic type Got no plan for curing them, so Doctor's out the door, bye I'll see him later when it's time to pay the rent on the Cars I been whipping The bars I been spitting that got these n***as mentally tripping Like the incision when I cut the check Toddler with writtens - your sh** it kitten soft Always asking questions, like "how my sh** a molotov?" I'm the f**ing bomb - you should've heard of me n***a When I was green you probably shouldve tried to murder me, n***a I've been popping off like top off the Behr Paint Smear the paper with the ink This that new Saint Brick on the block My n***as keep it pushing like a shopping cart Hark the Angels singing when the burners get to ringing BLAT