Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Strangeulation, Vol. II Cypher II, artist - Tech N9ne. Date of issue: 08.12.2015
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
Strangeulation, Vol. II Cypher II |
| Smoking weed |
| True indeed |
| Sick emcees, presented by |
| Tecca Neez! |
| Check it out |
| Ain’t nobody busting, like the nigga with a gun up, in the middle of the west |
| I be the killa with a TEC and I’m a villain with a vest, I gotta fill 'em with |
| effects, then I get it out the way |
| So I can say, what I wanna say |
| Right over the track singing, like the father of Nona Gaye |
| Let’s get it on, they love it when Tech spit a song way rugged |
| And check niggas on they grudges, then death shitted on they buzzes |
| That was just the intros, for the family with sin souls |
| But the Gandys with the fem flows, can’t stand me, like ten toes |
| I rock it, making my female fans freaking faucets |
| Put me up against Hop is thoughtless, not supposed to press partners, stop it |
| Can’t compete compare crotches, cockless, taking Tech is too toxic, toss it! |
| Never will the bosses take losses |
| Study cautiousness off this shit! |
| 'Cause some fans are antagonistic |
| Naggin' bitches, raggin' like a stabbin' happened, when I’m havin' hits |
| Get massive sick shit, like I ain’t Vlad and vicious, bad and twisted |
| Keep it jabbing fisted, Trav insisted |
| So I frown scarier, when the clown buries a nigga down to the ground, |
| but the crown carrier |
| Get the hound out the mound, and they’re bound, marry 'em all together, |
| is how we breaking the sound barrier |
| I’m three-dimensional, we invincible, you saying I’m over, you never see the |
| principle |
| My seed is meant to grow rapid, I’m the classical rap shit on acid! |
| Bastards! |
| (Hurl bars) Never will niggas be able to gimme the trash it |
| Jack it! |
| (World star) How in the fuck am I ripping, and reaching the masses? |
| Asses, faggots, too many back splashes |
| Then a wack black chat hatches, 'cause you napped at rap classes |
| They making a mockery of my painted face |
| But me I resemble our ancestors |
| And these niggas talking stuck, at a fainted pace |
| Still not realizing, this man blessed ya |
| I am so clever, my friends adore me they banging Yates |
| Your rhyme is no measure to him, you bore me, gay flaming fakes |
| Find him more cheddar, my end’s for me stay gaining great |
| 'Cause I am forever like Em, 40, Jay, Wayne and Drake |
| Pure art, I’m the shit and nigga, you’re farts |
| How they gonna challenge the Tecca N9na, when your flow’s softer, |
| than a Velour scarf? |
| Blowing this track into pieces, I’m leaving you fewer parts |
| At this moment, I am laying as dead, as before my 2.0 tour starts |
| Ain’t packed shit yet, this how your taint rap hits best |
| Tecca N9na ain’t plastic, my bank’s drastic, you can’t match his checks |
| Lot of gore in the flow, and I’m born to go, got your whore in the door |
| Taking your chick, 'cause a nigga been up on the Forbes list, now four in a row |
| My religion is followed by little kids |
| College kids, metalheads, hip hop heads, the rips and soo-woos |
| Your religion is tainted by money grubbing |
| Funny hugging, chummy loving grown men, that like to do youths |
| So I stick with my technicians |
| No F’s given, yeah, this team is a mixture of a few groups |
| This for my fans, nigga, fuck everybody else |
| If you loving this Tech N9ne, give me three aooh’s, and two whoops |