| CES is back to reign in this
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| After major changes and maintenance
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| basing of this
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| Raised in a rage against
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| The painful glitch I’ve been chasing with patience
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| Since the pages dripped with
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| Major script
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| Before the fame hits
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| And rearranges the way of spitting
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| By making grif I’m banging this
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| Favoured and blessed
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| My writing angle is CES
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| My second language and
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| My first ingredient and recipe
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| Rhymes meshed in the beat
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| A lesson for me by teaching my meshes progressively
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| Beef addressed in the streets
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| Peace in the middle, West and East
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| Learn how to accept defeat
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| Deal with regret and grief
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| Torn deep
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| Stressed and beat from depression
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| Ignored dreams
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| My destiny born to complete the quest that’s sworn to me
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| Beyond a pawn position in chess
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| Each song’s written from the bonds of a prison cell
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| Mind that’s gone demented
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| The long-sentence no-bail jail with strong fences
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| Con-medics and fraud dentists for jaw-clenching
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| I’m tough
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| End of discussion push this pen in your guts
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| My fingertips can distinguish real men from the muds
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| My head is already edgy
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| Like I’m ready for what?
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| And I crack jaws and chip your teeth up like the penny and plus
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| Say my name six times in the mirror then I appear
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| Show me love like death cab does to Gwenevere
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| Give it here like rent with overdue, late fees
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| You can call me in the morning right after you take these
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| Everybody wanna be the next rapper to make cheese
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| But they only did work for old ladies to rake leaves
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| So please don’t
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| Bother me fo'
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| Figure it out
|
| Fuck you Fee-Fi-fumbling shit
|
| So keep your mouth shut
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| My Shawshank sure-shot serum lets serve serpents
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| The covert cold-heart murdering on purpose
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| The perp is
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| Pounds from people who get down
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| My sound surround like what you didn’t see coming
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| And Godemis’ll knock out your teeth
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| I’m leaving you gumming
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| And better yet you rob a bank
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| And you ain’t leaving with nothing
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| Thats what you call a botched robbery
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| Godemis obviously
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| Is ripping fo’s
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| Keeping you right on your tippy toes
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| I get up to what you wanna do
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| You causing that static
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| I get up all over your city like my name is Maddock
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| With a long hand
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| Disbanding your band of brothers
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| I’m the sand, you the flame I’m planning to smother
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| And hover over your barracks
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| You scared of this here
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| But niggas don’t wanna know When I’m getting in their ear
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| Just like a Q-tip
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| With two hips broke
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| You need replacements
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| And Godemis will take cheers leaders up in the basement
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| And stack 'me up with a padlock
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| The rhymes is in a mas doc
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| And I ain’t go to go up in a notebook with no hook
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| I’m in the booth
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| Drunk like 90 proof
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| So what ya wanna do?
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| Godemis come busting that loose noose
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| Fucking around in KC
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| You’ll get your top popped like Kennedy
|
| On the call of duty, you’ll lose your helmet
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| While calling for your cavalry
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| You know you can’t stand it
|
| When you could take a seat and get capped with the handy
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| They call me handyman
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| 'cause I’m nice with the tools
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| Fresh like some new shoes
|
| Fresh like some 22s
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| You think you brand new?
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| You fools ain’t got a clue
|
| 'cause I was freaking your style back in middle school
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| Back when you thought getting her number was cool
|
| I was breaking in her mouth
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| Tryna get in the womb
|
| You was a young MC tryna bust a move
|
| I was in that ass tryna get in the groove
|
| Ya bitch |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Cypha3 , by - CES Cru. Song from the album Cesphiles Vol. 1 Codename:Irongiant, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп