Testo Cypher 2

[Intro: Crooked I]
Yo, you niggas makin them Vibe articles, "Best Rappers Alive"
Y'all niggas don't know what the FUCK y'all talkin 'bout!
Ha ha ha ha, niggas can't RAP no more! But my niggas can
Ladies and g-g-g-gent-g-gent-g-g-g-gentlemen
Ahh [laughs] chea!
You remember when, niggas had to know how to rhyme?
Way back, this the "Cypher 2" It ain't for you radio niggas, ha ha

[Demetrius Capone:]
We the best spittin, best livin or dead
I write fly shit like kites sent to the feds
To battle niggas inside prison - listen
I been spittin them death sentences for a life sentencin, yup!
Niggas die behind bars, I mean die behind shit that I said
I guess I'm like Mike Vick in the head
I kill niggas who think they bite vicious
But you a female, dog, that's why y'all like bitchin instead
I think of hot shit like pyrokinesis
Speakin of kinesis, with psychokinesis I'm squeezin a rifle
Leavin no prints, and I stole your pieces
To leave you without arms like the Venus de Milo Jesus Christ, he can squeeze with his eyes closed
Or blindfolded, and knock a fly off a guy's nose
Spittin liquid nitro
Cardiac or Cartier, either way my ticker's ice cold

[Julius Luciano:]
I'll get a 45 if you test me, I don't mean a low score
Ratchet, let you have it like I don't need it no more
I'm so great, I roast these MC's for dough, ay
Then donate, the proceeds to your team, now go pay
A ghostwriter okay, your flow seems to need
Some mo' flavor now go play, and don't speak to me
I'm so vein I boast, I'm low-key, conceited
I don't even put "do re", before "mi" you see
I don't see no way, like dopefiends, you need
A hit, of my spit, one dose leave you weak
Somethin that sounds like, oh-in-ne-in should go here but naw
Switch it up, don't care I'm raw
It's no fair for y'all, I flow so rare it's no error or flaws
Oh yeah beef, when I go there to draw
Bang! Man that gat scar niggas
I'll blow you to Madagascar nigga, haha yeah

[Dice Dinero:]
Who wanna fuck with this raw nigga? I come through at night and snatch your life
I shoot your bitch, that's how I Mac/mack your wife
Then shoot her again in the afterlife
See I'm a problem, your beef to each his own; I'll eat your soul
When I go into a ether zone I'm on the eastside of Long Beach
I'm the beast you don't see, the Grim Reaper's clone
Give me a pen and a pad and a microphone
And you can wind up with your muh'fuckin speaker's blown
My flow is acid, my spit's sulfuric
I bury you with the lyrics beneath the Earth, lift this finger
Disappearin, listen here it's crystal clear
My shots'll lift your soul, I mean lift your spirits
Cause every bar in my arsenal is arsonic
Attract arsonists, I'm more armed with arctic spit
Don't nobody want it like heavy smokers, my gun's most likely loaded
With bodies on it, call it a morgue cause it holds carcasses

[Kenny Siegel:]
Brrap brrap! Pack, we the best 'round
Fuck these old dudes who lost they touch as if they was paralyzed from the neck down
Clique of tyrants you can call us the New West now
We a virus you can call us the New West Nile
We harder than trying to spot a spit with bad vision
So niggas might wanna be easy like fast bitches
I'm past wicked slash vicious, if we clash I'll blast clips and
Leave your presence/presents in the past like last Christmas
You get erased by a gorilla for realer ay
With the steel that I conceal, I can seal your fate
Skip a wake, I'll bury you while you still awake
I'll put niggas in they place as if I'm in real estate
My clique deep, we skate in circles on some cold shit
As if we tryin to figure skate, and pull off the figure eight
I don't think y'all men straight, naw I think y'all menstruate!
I'll leave holes in you like the figure eight, leave your figure ate!

[Royce Da 5'9":]
The Horse Shoe, Gang
You from Long Beach or Detroit boy you annoyed, of course you, bang
Look at that Bugatti, look at the body on that passenger
Take your top off you then body the bottom half of ya
If it's, drama, I'm a take the whole family out
Maxwell Sheffield, that's right, I'll take "The Nanny" out
I'll beat that drum boy
I'm like Travis Barker with that A-K-4-7 [quick drumroll]
But I'll be deep in that spot though
I got my Mexican chick, 'bout to go put my beef in her taco
Haha, pardon my candor
But anytime I was ever questioned the gun spark was my answer
Pull your tool out, we ain't in here with fakers
We can turn this into Cleveland vs. the Lakers
Haha, a shootout, death I rule out
Yes, we way too busy murkin your crew out

[Crooked I:]
I'm the nigga you should call when kickin the raw written
I mastered what y'all call spittin my ice cold sentences, frost-bitten
I'm shittin on y'all, grippin that sawed-off
You a lost kitten gettin your paws gnawed off
By the big dog, listen; no matter what Prodigy thought of me
I should be commonly known as the best
Put the chrome at your chest - never "Layzie", get "Krayzie" "Bizzy"
So the bullets move in "Harmony" through your "Bone" and your "Flesh"
A super-villain, I'm I'll as Bizarro
I'll kill you tomorrow, then a nigga's chillin in Kilimanjaro
How many bullets from this steel are you willin to borrow?
You dyin to ride? Fuck it, I'll lend you a carload
You die in your ride, wife tryin to hide
Cyanide poison your bride, she dyin inside
I walk the streets of Long Beach with a screw loose
Talkin to myself, niggas think I'm on a Bluetooth
Pigface nigga!

[Woman:]
And I'm his bitch, Bonnie