CivilTV Next Up Cypher lyrics

by

Gudda Gudda


[Verse 1: Lil Twist]
The South Side, the South Side, these b*tches' mouth wide
Can't trust a pig informant n*gga, run the cop wired
They set us up, then book me up, you crooked f*ck
Get to the jail, tell them b*tches to look me up
I'm on top of my sh*t, Red Bottoms like how my shoe tastes
Standin' from where I'm at, the licro is my shoe lace
I chunk a deuce, pour a four all inside an eight ounce
I'm faded now, finna cut a ho off like K Camp
TMZ on my di*k, they swear they can knock me off, sh*t
Harvey better chill 'fore n*ggas run in his office
Write our own article, tell the people who caused it
Faggot tried to hide, first spot we shot is the closet
Crazy mothaf*cka, Mossberg in the moshpit
Ever since I hit L.A., I'm wildin' on my Pac sh*t
B.I.G., "Who Shot" sh*t, or Jay on his Roc sh*t
"Wop Wop," "Drop It Like It's Hot," "Block Is Hot" sh*t

[Verse 2: HoodyBaby]
Fat fly n*gga landing on your runway
Got the work coming, I'm the black Mickey Munday
Snowflake fresher than the morning on a Sunday
I ain't a killer but my homie with the gunplay
He the type of kid go to school and kill the lunch La-dy
Damn, crazy right?
We the typa kids live a crazy life
We get money, f*ck b*tches, rock crazy ice
And it's Young Money Records, ho, I'm really with D'wayne
In the club drunk trippin' yelling "b*tch, I'm Mack Maine!"
Boy's insane, top down in the rain
Holding up traffic, shootin' dice in your lane
n*ggas shot me in my back, but I'm back bro
No we not a Jack boy, we done jacked bro
Started sellin' crack, now a n*gga sellin' crack flows
Meet me in the trap, I'll be right by the back door
You can get a Bow Wow, you can get a Fat Joe
You can get finessed, I'm from Dallas, boy, it's natural
You can get it all for a real pretty penny
n*ggas in the hood cookin' chickens, eatin' Denny's
Hoody
[Verse 3: Euro]
Compare me to who? Compare me to what?
Compare me to them, I'm 100, I'm not like them
I'm talkin', been hustlin' before I seen her
Rick Ross video in that off-white Beamer
I'm at the bar taking shots of nightmares with dreamers
Shoot for the stars, hope the moon ain't seen us
Stepped in the game and I spit that ether
And I ain't leaving 'til I blow, funny, these hoes ain't either
Listen, it's February, leave enough time for me
So by December, I should be a millionaire at least
The least, take my word, this the year I beast
And if not, y'all can kill me by New Years Eve, please

[Verse 4: Flow]
Rollin' blunts while I'm listening to my Jigga disc
Smokin', flickin' ashes from the tip of the pyramid
Dressed in black, throwing up horns for my membership
White kid listened to my song then he slit his wrist
I have a nightmare to stop you n*ggas from dreaming
I never read the Bible but I watch angel and demons
The devil after me? Well f*ck it, I'm anxious to meet him
But shh, shh, just keep it secret
If I join this force, would people stop hatin'?
Should I rap like this to join the Roc Nation?
Flow cold like I'm rapping while I'm ice skating
Somebody get me an apron, all of my time wasting
I keep it dirty like Chucks plus I'm a little gothic
I spit curses and spells and black nail polish
I f*ck gypsies and witches, all of my pals' monsters
Smarter than twelve doctors, sharper than nail filers
Call Satan like f*ck it, show me how hell look
I take a nun, then I f*ck her like a werewolf
I have no heart, no soul, only these spell books
You n*ggas' b*tches and hoes minus the girl looks
I paint pictures with lyrics so y'all can see my thoughts
Now follow me, in my evil voice
Tweet, Young motherf*ckin' Money
These my motherf*ckin' brothers, not my f*ckin' hubbies
[Verse 5: Cory Gunz]
Militia n*gga, you know the name
Cory Gunz, 'member my pops era, the son of Dame
The f*ck is he supposed to call it
The closer the call is, the closer you going
I'm claustrophobic, your swagger is (?)
Mine is poison, I cough a lotus
Walk New York and show this off, awesome assault aerobics
You could 80 billion chinups, billion dips and a zillion situps
I stomp you where you at, til' you chameleon what it was
Keep me from creeping down the strip bored
Hit for it, jigsaw, clip board
Then I rip your bungees at the zip cord
Pardon my lip lord, can I get my (?)
(?)
Goons smoking wools, lining it raw
Who want it with us
Let me know if its beef n*gga
I hope you got the coco leaf or clover leaf
Ain't no competing with these
n*ggas from boogie to bang bang boogie
Ain't gangbang for chains, stings, cookies and brains hang
Anythang
Anybody looking to bring pain, maintain
Anybody looking to say name, stay sane
Anybody looking to play games ain't wild or worthwhile
n*gga just stay tame
[Verse 6: Gudda Gudda]
Never thinking of losing
Winning is the only option, there's no picking and choosing
Tackling my obsticals, while I'm high as an [?]
Made it through the storm, I see the rainbow and my pot of gold
[?] bring it to my section, no exceptions [?] them bottles [?]
[?] mixed with pineapple [?]
Plottin, so I only got my mind on a million
I'm [?] about the billions , really I'm
Passed overdo, so pass over my doos
That's do to me, I'm doing me, passing over these dudes
I'm living, jack, but I love giving back to my fam
And the fans that show love and show [?]
[?]
I'm your idol, I'll murder any cypher
My mind is a rifle, f*ck your raps, go get a bible
I'm god, I'm hard, I'm large [?]
[?] in the middle of the garden
I bet these n*ggas' pardin, I been killing 10 summers straight
[?] whips and chains, [?] slave like a runaway
[?] no E.I. C.I
[?] these n*ggas like B.I.G.I.E
Hitman with a scope, I can hit you from long range
[?] small change, [?] ball game
Blood on my cleets, straight out the gudder, that's me
My n*ggas named me Gudda Gudda, cause Gudda came straight from the streets
I'm a real one, never shook, check my eyes if you ever look
I'm [?] my soul cold enough to leave the devil shook
Petal to the metal, got my foot on the gass
Gassed up, get the pump or a foot in your ass
[?] I'm too nice when I write these scriptures
Cause all the fans transcribed them all
[?] I'm spitting, my pen need penicillin
I ain't in the right business, I should be writing books, or writing movies
And turning scripts [?]
Instead, I get perscriptions [?]
A couple sips [?] in and out the booth like [?]
[?] on a mission, I'm itching
For a rapper to have my name [?] if he worth the attention
And he's my next victom
Parental advisory tatted on me, they can't break my thought process
[?] on me, [?]
One verse is worth [?]
I could kill 3 rappers with 4 bars that [?]
What's poppin [?]
All my slimes getting to the money, it's 600 ways to die
I'm giving you a hundred
I'm Young Gudda, I'm Young Money
Got old money, take your money
Beat the f*ck out of the rap game, till it ain't no money
f*ck show money
[?] I write for a living
So it ain't nothing for me to write a rap and [?] kill you
I'm Spielberg, writing a picture
My mind captures red rum
I can shoot my words backwards and splat you, that's murder, n*gga

[Verse 7: Lil Wayne]
Smoke, sex, skate, shoot
Boy we turnt up like breakin' news
Let the kids live, baby too
Blood all in the f*ckin' baby food
The cradle too, shoot the dog once
Turn around, tell the kids, "Stay in school"
Leave out the house, neighbors peekin' out the windows
Show the pistol to the neighbors and the neighbors move
I don't give a f*ck about a n*gga's caregiver
I be with them n*ggas that'll f*ck their stepsister
I be with them n*ggas that'll kill your caregiver
I'll do Brazilian wax on a hair trigger
Lord I think I need a hitman
Tell Biggie I'm a big fan
My pockets on Biggie Smalls
Your pockets on stickman
I just came from the gun store
I swear I spent about 10 grand
Now the parents wearin' black clothes
And got your homies wearin' sh*t bags
Think I need a hitman
'Bout to go kidnap a rich man
If he don't give it up we chop him up
And send his body parts to his house gift wrapped
I think I need a hitman
I can't trust the next man
Thank Lord for my weedman
But right now we're playin' phone tag
I'm doin' 40 down the boulevard
I told my homie he gon' take the charge
He got the Tommy and I got the MAC
And on your head they got a contract
I thank you for my hitman
And tell Pac I'm a big fan
I sang "Dear Mama" to my dear mama
And sang "Hit Em Up" to my daddy's b*tch ass
I thank you for my hitman
'Bout to go kidnap the big man
As you can see I got big plans
Big plans to be the big man
40 down the boulevard
With my homies, they gon' take the charge
Say, "It's nothin', boy I got your back"
Because them other n*ggas copy cats
I thank you for my hitman
This for all my fans that been fans
I'm so sorry, I'm so f*ckin' sorry
I'm so sorry for the weight like Slim-Fast
Stick MDMA up a b*tch ass
AT&T, ass, tongue and tit man
Oh, oh sh*t, man
Your pockets on stickman

[Verse 8: Lil Wayne]
It talk like a killer, it walk like a killer
It must be a killer, I must be a killer
Hustlin' Priscilla straight out of the villa
I got more customers shoppin' at Dillards
Don't f*ck with these n*ggas, I don't know their names
f*ck these n*ggas, I don't give a damn
f*ckin' with Wayne, Talkin' to Wayne
You talkin' to Wayne is like talkin' to flame
22 pop for a brick in the drought
You can't buy the chicken then please chicken out
Or if you snitchin' we will sniff it out
You'll get found at your house, put your di*k in your mouth
Dope, skinny ass sweats
Got a strap wear that b*tch on my back
I walk in the mall with that sh*t on my back
With my b*tch hollerin' 'bout, "I want this, I want that"
Ooh, mulah
Like la, la, la, la, la, la Too much Cubana up in me cabana
Too much white china and Columbiana
That Columbiana, Zoë Saldaña
f*ck, hollup
I'll be right back, keep the lights on, baby
Leave the lights on, baby
Them n*ggas play, they'll get wiped off, baby
Like Lysol, baby
I pull up on a b*tch weighin 138
Put a b*tch n*gga on First 48
f*ck a bad b*tch in the first 24
She take off all her clothes, say she sorry for the wait
Put her legs on a n*gga like a hula hoop
I go between her legs like we shootin' hoops
I break a chicken down to some noodle soup
I buy a Rolls Royce like a Subaru
I buy a Rolls Royce like a Subaru, b*tch

[Verse 9: Lil Wayne]
Wait b*tch, I've been on
Top of my sh*t, I've been thinkin' 'bout sh*t
All this lean in my punch got me lickin' a mothaf*ckin' fist
Lord please don't let my ice melt
Muhf*ck these dog hoes
But this 9 on my right leg
Times get hard, n*gga I could sell crack to a white egg
Sell wrong to a right aide
n*gga it's Carter time and n*ggas horrified
It's glorified in this b*tch
Prioritized and immortalized
I'm on the borderline and it's thin
Hold up I'm lightheaded like a kite, baby
I might, maybe, get life, baby
My light shady, my rice, gravy
My nights daily, my life's crazy
Lil Tunechi, b*tch
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