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team backpack - pdx cypher series (part 2) كلمات الأغنية

[verse 1: hanif]
out-of-towners like ‘i’ll probably get in his -ss’, homie try it
if it’s beef you’ll have to beg for a p-ss, i’m kobe bryant
plus i really got them clips galore
catch a bag, hit the store
battle nif, you gon’ get the square root of 64
rich or poor, i be on my sh-t for sure
stupid n-ggas claiming blocks, pimping thots, “pitching raw”
i was selling trees quite honestly motherf-cker
but i kept them p’s silent, psychology motherf-cker
hol’ up, your homie’s app-ing you, he got that what’s-the-matter face
that ain’t “social media” they got you in a database
you got the bad-batch-of-shatter face
cold sh-t, critics be like ‘hold up’
they can suck my whole d-ck
you n-ggas wanna be king, you haven’t sold sh-t
one quarter’s publishing checks more than your whole sh-t
going broke and spending fortunes just to push your tape
but somehow there’s no still no interest: you’re a muslim bank
i got a 30 round clip for ya’ insta likes
my nine’ll have you on the dash like an engine light
drop the clip and load the midget just to make you miserable
i will even bomb on your children, the state of israel
so, the coppers searching me constantly they can’t quit it
but i don’t ever got no d, i’m dam’ lillard
that’s that a run [?] we come from [?] florida to say
so get it straight b-tch, oregon state

[verse 2: onlyone]
my gl-ss half full of ice and crown apple
i’m smoking weed with matches out of a brown apple
i’m v for vendetta willing and barrels of gunpowder
i hope someone muslim 9/11 the trump tower
what up to theo [?], smoke a pilo a day
i shoot a cop in his vest, watch his ego deflate
i’m k!lling the sheep and k!lling the shepherd
f-ck a bio, all i got’s a little criminal record
put up your, money to bet
i put a gun to ya’ head
this ain’t a robbery, we ’bout to play russian roulette
you said, you’d pull the tec out, and i’d get stretched out
but you ain’t done nothing when you see me step out, what a letdown
lame rappers debate, which rapper’s the dopest
but when i see these motherf-ckers, they scatter like roaches
congrats, yo’ dad p-ssed down a family business
rats, my dad p-ssed down some bad addictions
my new chick, is way doper than my ex-girl
till i find out the b-tch is fake, like westworld
they comment, i do a lotta punches when i rap
basically everyone else ain’t saying nothing when they rap
this, gat i bought is not cheap
i grew up on a hot street
now i’m on a hot streak k!lling trox beats
lames ain’t rap about sh-t they ain’t about sh-t
.40 cal l!ck a shot at yo’ cowl!ck
i’m a, time bomb ticking loud
i ain’t done, i’m schiz-ing out
i spit, witchcraft, wiccan’ed out like from a witch’s mouth
split ya’ wig, you wigging out
my juggalo b-tch swallow my kids like, it the clown
sh-t is pretty wild look
i love to catch ones but i’d rather, bust guns
i been bumping my gums since hanif was luck-one
i feel so versatile, h-llo hi hey
i go by onlyone, thought y’all should know my name

[verse 3: vursatyl]
and now, ladies and gentlemen playing all positions
vursatyl’s the name and also the description
the camera’s doc-menting what level the flow is on
i’m a cross ‘tween gordon parks and ted kaczynski, photobomb
comedy central clowns wanna compare stats
been around the world several times, i swear facts
i rode to enlightenment on a lightning bolt bareback
while rising stars blow up in this nike town, but this is where your air max
life in the trenches like new editions be real though
what they calling bars are more like light [?]
got me fighting preschoolers on the playground, wearing mike tyson’s belt
k!ll a shark in the kiddie pool, michael phelps
we digging for dusties and, we’ll end you abruptly, huff a cig you’re rusty
calm your nerves learn how trusty your trigger must be
bring that long-barrel silencer to snuff me
coward you ain’t a bad boy just ’cause your ego is big and puffy
real n-ggas who ain’t real n-ggas now this for you
swear to god, you n-ggas ain’t hard, you just real hard to listen to
who took your ghetto p-ss and stamped you g’s?
the fact is your guns don’t clap like one-armed vietnam war amputees
l-sso the moon and stars, got lunar bars
midas touch planets with more 24-karat magic than bruno mars
the vet is crazy, keyser söze and kevin sp-cey
but, even my split personalities are afraid to face me
for years been the dopest n-gga here
if this was ancient africa you’d be dangling from the end of my spear
brought this new hip hop empire, wanna change the course of history
but i’m obi-wan, luke, anakin, and yoda, and the force is with me
my plan is to punish the hundreds of cover that’s aided enough but they running up under their numbers will plummet the bumble-nut undercut come to the front where it’s telling them ‘earn yours!’
stop crying, world listen
when they list portland’s dopest and don’t mention vursatyl they lying
now gimme a demo let your cd play quickly
and i just may back your music like freeway ricky
this book won’t be on the shelves your local library holds
wrote it i wrote this with a blowtorch and binary code
meaning my monologue is sergei rachmaninoff playing chopin
i’m ambidextrous and throwing planets at you with both hands
winner takes all, never see vursatyl the great fall
winner takes all, game over, eight-ball

- team backpack

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