Strangeulation Vol. II Cypher II

For what I wanted to do was take some of my classic beats, and send 'em to my artists, see what they would come up with on these beats that I love so much, so I wanna call Stevie Stone and Ces Cru to murder, let's go

Feel the hate when they come around

To the bull that set a doubt

Feel the love, I'm the great and or the true

See the fakes and the snakes, I'm always outta bounds

See I been dealt a hand, my nigga, I can peep

Peeping the shifty fans, my nigga

They gon' (see) see me going H.A.M, getting bigger, nigga

(Talk that shit if you want to hack my Tech N9ne plead again)

Make sure you remember me, me the odd ball liquor

When Stevie get to speak in the pot

Thickens with and these niggas is Vixens

Competition, it's really contradiction (uh-huh!)

Learning from the realest slim pickings

I love it, how you doubt a nigga, a nigga

Panned out, all this profit sought the stone to stand stout

On rigid and rare routes, [?]plegic, the hair nigga out

Strangeulation two and it's right now

Let's take it to another level, hot medal, back cattle, bitch

High pitched, fly shit, five settle, my word's like the bandit lord

I think this really got me paranoid

Middle finger to my enemies, I say all you niggas is bitches

Jurisdiction have so many restrictions

All you niggas is fiction, no conviction

Niggas get to dissin', I'll have you outta commission

Bobby's missing, call my brother to lynch 'em

All you niggas is gimmicks, body and soul

All you niggas pretending, thought that we so-called family

All you niggas can get it, turning my value Had us upon that midget

Let me hear you say names, let me hear you holler strange

I'm contained with flame, will leave your bodies decaying

Niggas be playing games, my niggas take your name

How you in it, the [?], better stay in your lane

Guess time'll tell (guess time'll tell, guess time'll tell)

Right hand over my heart of hearts I'm pledging allegiance

To Ces, for whatever the reasons I have withered the seasons

They're dead in the breeze, I'm ready to feed 'em

I never believed 'em, you son of a bitch, son of a preacher, word

Heaven and Jesus, two seven and greaser, separation is still

And spreading diseases, my recommendation is cheddar and cheeses

Maybe you better get business, like God he know that I carried the load

I know your boy is heavy and heaving

That's word to strange and Tech Da Nine, who better to lead us

Since I been with that team I been spinning them G's

Bitch, yeah, you better believe it, cash come in a bulk amount now

I'm staying ahead of my dreams so the fuck could I sulk about

For real, I'll never be satisfied still, I don't be vocal loud loud

Respect is due, I show it, don't blow it, my records are outta bound

Chill, I'm choosing my weapons wisely, we never will lose direction

Guide 'em through the Recession Proof, should include a confession, truth

Started from the Bikini Bottom, we're here but it's something fishy

Twenty sixteen, Strange Music, making some fucking history

I know they want me to put up the pen

And just quit with the rapping, it won't never happen, no

For the minutes that I been in it, I'ma kill it and still in the back but I'm clapping though

In a matter of fact I been acting, so

At a wack in my brain is on no and low

I don't call anybody, ain't nobody calling me

Maybe I don't need a phone no mo'

Guess I won't pay the bill in the ville and it's real and venom and uh, then I'm a goner

And haters are catering to me with witches that wouldn't win any longer

just making me stronger, wanna kill me, then pay me no mind

Get a record to spot a bit longer, if you don't feel me then get on your grind

I don't mean to be mean but the measure is simple when you try to weather the outcome

Now I don't need a reason, killing any season, in fact I am better without one

You don't know anything about heating the temp of the weather that I'm coming out from

And I wouldn't consider you equal like other people, where the fuck is your album?

Shit to you is a hobby and obviously y'all ain't knowing to measure at all

Murdering for pleasure, ain't fucking with Godi, I'm sick with a medicine ball

Couldn't give 'em a shit, not even a little bit cause they haters, we know it

We all know the location, come get your face winched, Strangeulation reloaded! (Fuck)