Styles P - BET Cypher lyrics

[Intro: Styles P] BET get your recorders You rockin' with the Ghost, Papoose and Lupe the skateboarder Welcome to the Cipher, the beginnin' of rap Before record deals, first I'm gonna toss it to Pap [Verse 1: Papoose] Over one hundred soldiers died this month, I drop info Out of a hundred, the majority was negroes George Bush is on a roll like a round hero They still findin' human remains at Ground Zero They found 'em in the sewers, yeah it shows Aww man yo, I guess that's why they call it a manhole When we say B.E.T we ain't tryna spell bet Black Entertainment, Papoose is the best Nacirema wait 'till my album drop He hop up I clap him in his hip, you can call it hip-hop Rappers be actin' like they tougher then they really is So I sit 'em in wheelchairs like Jada Pinkett kids You was puttin' your sneakers on the wrong feet when Papoose was reppin' for the streets Might as well face your defeat, look patna I'll have you lookin at defeat like a foot doctor That's right [Verse 2: Lupe Fiasco] They say the game has the belly of a beast Blunts for fingers and hollow tips for teeth Wire taps for ears Nike Airs for feet Blasphemy for prayers the system for a heart Rap music for beats h**n for the son and he's married to the streets Crack pipes for lungs, and he never sleeps just spies with dice in his eyes Love life cause he like when it dies With baking soda soul he cough up pleasure Clothes made out of dollar bills that he sewed together, he knows he's clever Jail is his house, all the liquor that pours out and goes right in his mouth Rides around on a stray bullet With prostitute, pimp, dope dealers and k**ers tied to it to pull it TV in his head, strippers slide down his legs And he known to ride around with the Feds He's out there [x4] [Verse 3: Styles P] Don't call me Ghost no more call me The Phantom Real brothers love him, street brothers understand him This is to the man with his hand on his Cannon Right at this moment I know we need an atonement The Malcolm is dead, the Martin is dead The guns, the barber, let me know who want a part in their head And I am back to the clip fill to the top I'll grill with a bop, police comin' through kids steal a rock I don't give an F cause I wanna die cause I am gonna die You to figure, don't boo who figure Want to the play the game find out who's who figure After you do that, find out who's true figure Lots of brothers died over BS, nonsense School of hard-knocks, no parent teacher conference Got to learn the rules real fast, move fast Stand up and mash shortie, cause they know that you a** [Papoose] Yeah that's hip-hop [Styles P] Before there was radio, before there were videos, before there were magazines Put the camera down this what it was [Papoose] The cipher three hundred sixty degrees, the cipher Show you cats how to rhyme man, take that [x2]