RAW Cypher lyrics

by

Dizzy Wright


[Verse 1: Asher Roth]
FIrst of all, my dog, back off
Ash Roth top five right now, better know that
But rap without me is like braidless Moesha, Kobe with no Shaq
But when I'm on the mic all I get is blank stares
No cares, it's a slow clap
But just because you rapping like "Da-da-da-da-da-da"
Doesn't mean you really rap
I can't grasp how these broke asses claiming to be rich
But really get no cash
I been to your whack show, what you call that, bro?
25 people at home with a cat?
You go posting like "Yo it was packed, it was dope
It was girls from the front to the back"
All these c*m rags keep comparing white rappers with Asher
But everybody knows I'm the dad
For the craft, or a laugh, not a tad outlasted
I don't really care what you say
10 years from now I'ma still love college
While I'm f*cking white girls out in Arizona State
I'm sick of hearing all the hoes you be having
How much dro you be smoking, homie no you don't
You showed up with bros
Here's a RAW paper, do you even know how to roll?
Let it go like my hair length
I'm gonna quit rap start it better I'm gonna play bass guitar
Me, Chevy, Chip, and Dumbfounded
What should we call it?
Hmm, How about RAW?
[Verse 2: King Chip]
I been wakin' up everyday, doing the f*ck I want
All I need is for sh*t to be cool, and pass that f*ckin' blunt
n*gga never gave no f*ck about police, I p*ss all on their grave
Justice for Mike Brown, you son of a b*tches gon' be held to pay
I got the severed hands of 100 cops up out my chariot
What if every hood united? That would be some scary sh*t
Way more n*ggas than cops
YouTube show a n*gga how to do anything
3D print my SK, walk in TSA, couldn’t say anything
I walked in like a real one, ready to kill somethin'
Its impossible to hear my voice, and not feel nothin'
Suck a black di*k, Bill O'Reilly f*ck you
I'm King Chip I say exactly what I want to
n*gga never gave no f*ck ‘bout politics, I got the power, b*tch
4 bedroom house, in my living room I got a lot of chicks
Smokin’ fool n*gga, we smokin' fools
How does it feel to be wearing a chain that's way more dope than you?

[Verse 3: $kinny]
I be that sand n*gga with a whole lot of jewels, whole lot of hoes, whole lot of O’s, blow whole lot of O’s, whole lot of guns blow whole lot of holes, home full of holes, whole full of f*ck yous, whole lot of crews that’ll ride for me, die for me, pry for me, rob for me, probably get caught by the cops for me, cop drops for n*ggas that’ll lie for me
And if you wanna pop off let it pop off
In a benz with the top off with some drop offs
In the tint it’ll be hotboxed you’ll be hot sauce with some twins in the lunchbox full of pot roast
[?]
I be up in cairo with the pharaohs
I be up in cabo with dineros
On the beach with a barrel full of arrows
Y'all can't bang with us hang with us
Bunch of f*ckin' traderers, strangerers
Never see me paperless, I’m angel dust
Dope boy straight dangerous, irregulars
I’m the same n*gga you love to hate
Must be the bands I make
Must be the pounds I bake
Must be the way I bang LA
Must be the whip I brought around the town today
Must be the b*tch I flew in outta town today
Must be the sh*t I blew up in the Mandalay better do what the camel say
Few goons from France saint tropez. Haters go scramblé
[Verse 4: Chevy Woods]
Young dope sellin' n*gga
4800 got the coke sellin' n*gga
Now all these wannabe friends see us real now they wanna try and coattail a n*gga, but
Ha look I ain't for it, dodge on them n*ggas nah this ain't ford
211 when they run it back to me now that’s what I call a raw report
That Honda accord, three chickens in a wheel well
Lil n*gga when it come to that kitchen you know I know that sh*t real well
Yea, say hi to me, the n*gga who they sayin' wouldn't be sh*t
Oh, look and I'm Randy Savage [?] Yo b*tch want the beef stick
That’s cold, see this watch here cost a new home
Look baby I’m ballin' watch these shooters get you outta that zone
You talkin' like you gettin' to the money, you ain't gettin' to the money pus*y leave me alone
Ha ha
And I never keep sh*t at my home
n*ggas always talkin' that killa sh*t but they don’t know no motherf*ckin' killas
They say I always rap about drug sellin' 'cause I was out on that corner with the dealers
You see I’m doin' this so I’m ain't gotta go back to that book bag full of that work
And a pus*y ass n*gga tried to set me up same pus*y ass n*gga that got merked
If you bang that sh*t, n*gga claim that sh*t, see me I don’t f*ck with that side, try me better look out your window I have them n*ggas waitin' in that car parked outside
I ain't ever get no money with you broke ass n*ggas, never told y'all who’s the connect
Ima always be 4800 n*gga real sh*t homies on the set
Shoes off, champagne, steak well done not the crib this is all on a jet
They don’t wanna give it to me imma take my sh*t either way imma get my respect
Free all my n*ggas that’s locked in the cage when they touch down they gon' see
And tell them pus*y ass n*ggas don’t copy my sh*t and you know that’s TGOD f*ck n*gga
Oooohhhh
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net