Hopsin, Roscoe Dash, Machine Gun Kelly, Future, Danny Brown - 2012 Freshman Cypher | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Hopsin, Roscoe Dash, Machine Gun Kelly, Future, Danny Brown
• 2012 Freshman Cypher

[Verse 1: Hopsin]
Welcome to the Ill Mind of Hopsin, where real life's an option
Real lines that I spit make you realize you not sick
Science at its finest, tell Bill Nye to watch it
Now turn this shit the fuck up till you feel high and nauseous
Yo, check out this verse I wreck, I think I'mma curse the blessed
No one seems to know if my brain's the result of birth defects
I need a solution, pastors tell me that church is best
But they'll look at me devilish cause I'm how they interpret death
Everybody's always acting fake, rappers I hate be asking to collaborate
It's sad to say but it's the truth, that instead of trying to congratulate
They got they hands out like we playing a game of Patty Cake
But that ain't what I'm focused on
The day I step up in the lab with a sell out will be the day all hope is gone
The game's filled with a bunch of faggots who don't belong
Always claiming they real niggas but I ain't notice one

[Verse 2: Roscoe Dash]
Where the fuck'd he come from and why is he here?
Dressed in some dope shit your stylist probably would wear
Look like Egyptian hieroglyphics set shit off in his hair
And the message is no one in this day or time could compare
Practice makes perfect, I practiced my whole life
Far from perfect but my worst shit is lapping em all twice
But like I put the "I" in win, cause I did it my whole life
So your first place or second statistics are all hype
I'm all flight, no really, I'm all flight
I live in the sky and get higher than four kites
If your girl like my music, don't worry it's alright
The day we meet'll never happen, my hours are all night
I work hard, pay off, plus the evidence, nigga
All my pockets best friends with Dead Presidents, nigga
Right hook the whole world, throw your bell for these niggas
No wonder they kept a spot on double X L for a nigga

[Machine Gun Kelly]
When I come around, people smell trouble
I don't fuck with Photoshop, so holler at me when you wanna see a real jungle
The Eastside where fiends huddle
Outta towners come across them potholes stumbling, make their knees buckle
Street signs'll read struggle
Every couple months another shirt with R.I.P's and we love you's
Instead of leaving school my friends are leaving out in a duffel
I bleed hustle, why the fuck I need muscle, run tell them that
I'm going in like needles in war wounds
Kids at the dorm rooms, syringes and harpoons
Summertime hot couple months before June
And have star power while in the planet below moon
Now that's classic, and with all of this wackness
Crowd for providing this track here it's madness
Without a witch and some spells I made magic
Motherfucking monster, Lake Placid, Kells
Bring that shit back, bring that shit back, now bring that shit back
Lace up, uh
I'mma consider this class brother, now learn something
A pocket roll, a E-Z Wider, a filter, a little hash so I can burn something
Just to help you cope a little bit more
Cause round here tomorrow isn't for sure
And we coming up from mistake on the lake, double O
Bag it up, then we wake as we bake, Double O's
Burning up, then we making the cake, double stoves
Then I hop up out the bitch with hella bread like a dozen loaves
That's money, biatch!

[Future]
Coke Boys, something like Montana
With the bird gang like Santana
Real street nigga repping for Atlanta
Ain't dropped but I'm still in the Phantom
And I blow that money fast like a candle
Yeah, and I still got stamina
Let my lil homie do you on camera
Yeah we ain't nothing but some animals
Got a house and a condo in Miami
What you doing, what you do for the fucking Grammy
I do what it take for the paper chase
Freestyle, off the dome, whatever it take

[Danny Brown]
Ho, the only thing you gotta know
My dick