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Green = Hössi's vocals
Grey = Ciphah's vocals
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Lyrics I got 'em you need 'em you need 'em I got em. x11
Lay it on ya I'm gonna I'm gonna lay it on ya.
Look bitch I heard around the corner that
you thought you was the man, still them cats said that you were
my biggest fan, you don't admit it, you wanna turn up the heat,
step on your face like a nickel on the concrete. Sweep, take you
off the floor throwin' out a bomb, you threw it back said you didn't
want no scum, I guess, I dunno but he was lookin' mad ill, two eyes
lookin' at you with a cause to kill. I see you bustin' rhymes with
no sign of fear, as I start off, you start to feel queer. Your heart
stops tickin' as I rip out your spine, you out, along with your
half-assed rhyme, battlin' Ciphah, without protection, yo the only
one upon it is my own reflection. Snap snap wake up, back to reality.
You're one motherfucker with a flawless fatality.
Lyrics I got 'em you need 'em you need 'em I got 'em. x 7
Lay it on ya I'm gonna I'm gonna lay it on ya.
Yeah, you probably the greatest, the best
there ever was, but this rap brag bullshit makes me want it over
y'all. I don't give a shit about your ivy league bustin 'cause your
brain needs air and your big head adjusting. To me you're just a
little girl that wants to be a man, but you hide behind your pride
because you know that you can. So what do you say to this, that
you can be the best fool, but you're never gonna never gonna be
cool.
Ooh, mayday, mayday, I'm under attack by
this one little bitch and yo he thinks he's all that. I fight back,
'cause all he talks is bull jive, talk to your finger 'cause you
ain't worth five, comin' against me is like feelin' kamikazee, 'cause
I'll slap you around bitch, and call you Susie. My rhymes be fatter
than a sumo challenger, hotter than tight which lyrically I sprinkle.
Yeah your MC skills are worse than pathetic, when you try to work
the mic, I get a fucking headache. Should have ran away when you
saw Cyphah approach, I step on you like a filthy cockroach. La cucaracha
motherfucker now I gotcha, now you look uglier than the bitch that
wont touch ya. Smokin' when I split like a rastafara, but those
burnt out so, sayonara.
Wait, wait, wait, wait motherfucker you ain't
off the hook just yet, lay your money on the table, we are gonna
make a little bet, on your rap skills and whatever, 'cause fucking
with Mr. Cool isn't all that clever. I'm gonna teach you a lesson
like I taught your mother, she was so-so, I'd brag her but then
she hit your brother, that's right, you better believe it, 'cause
that's who I am, the bam, you know, the game is all a scam.
Lyrics I got 'em you need 'em you need 'em I got 'em. x 7
Lay it on ya I'm gonna I'm gonna lay it on ya.