2055 BET HIP HOP AWARDS C9 CYPHER lyrics

[Verse 1: Denzel Curry]
Got me feeling like a f*cking dog, it's outside
[?] house and bars, Aquarius Killer Curry is a f*ckin' god
Backwards n*gga no facade, I'm from a place where n*ggas switchin' squad
Z3, Z4 and all across the block
n*ggas out here blame flags
Purple, green or that all-black
f*ck around you get your ass taxed
Stick in the field you get wet
Like arcane and that mole rat
From Chuck E. Cheese, n*gga let's take it back
Caught flaggin' by the stove
n*gga hopped out the four-door
You know Mo thinks in slo-mo, like Trinity
You cross me like a trinity
Nevertheless it's meant for me
Extend my hatred wickedly one-hundred times infinity
Super Saiyan level hit the boiler point
Hotter than the [?] with the Devil in the back of a joint
First one to die is the one who's the hardest
Blackland Carol City, b*tch welcome to Muder Gardens

[Verse 2: Yoshi Thompkins]
Feel like I got the power, I'm higher the hip hop Messiah
I ain't f*ck Alicia Keys but a n*gga on fire
That's prior to the fact that I'm rawer then unprotected sex
Eat some Chex cereal in the morning and then it's off for checks
And why n*ggas asking me to match spliffs
I'd rather stay home, break backs like Mike Smith
I'll write a cool mixtape drop it on Dat Piff
Now these hoes tryna use me I'm feeling a little thrift
Damn Josh you rap now, but I ain't talking about gifts
And I ain't talking about cliffs when I say I leave you hanging
'Cause you b*tches got the blues like a smurfet if you banging
And I ain't banging I'm just banging these hoes n*ggas claim they taming
I'm always rappin burning up like coal, aiming at you hoes
Women that don't have no f*cking souls their hearts a f*cking cold
Mines is bared ass on a igloo
So don't ask me do I care about these b*tches and what they
All do 'cause uhm
They probably what I'm getting through
Rapping f*cking hoes it helps me with what I'm getting through
Getting super wet and lay the pipe like a plumber do
The name getting known so these b*tches sticking like some
Glue, I'ma ball cause a n*gga shine more than a car being waxed
Bought some armorall hoho, get off my santa clause
Class writing rhymes cause I don't have time for this work sh*t
Probably high as f*ck I'm [?] weed I'm talking purp sh*t
Teacher passing out D's so yes I'm barely passing
But I'm worried about the fashion and the b*tches in which
I'm smashing
Bust a nut and drop her off and then I dump her like some ashes
Like sorry Mr. Johnson, for this math I have no passion
I'd rather make sweet love to the girl that sitting next to me
And flip her like a supreme deluxe Krabby Patty recipe
They like damn Josh how come you haven't blown yet
Because I haven't kissed enough ass to get known yet, dummy
[Verse 3: JK The Reaper]
n*ggas swear they get pus*y but having phone sex
Tell her give me head 'til her forehead dome sweat
Meat cleaver flow for n*ggas thinking they raw
Leave you looking like DMX if you keep barking at the dogs
Check her call log, I bet you n*gga I ain't call at all
To me it's 100 miss calls check her crib you'll probably find my
Drawers, and one of my balls
Why n*ggas always stall, I'm that n*gga on call with three b*tches, ho I'm Jabber Jaws
And with the pus*y cat doll, check my catalog dog
My catastrophic bombs will probably throw you off
n*ggas always coming soft, so I had to flip the script
I think I'm Da Vinci hiding images inside the script
Watching tales from the crip, lay my spread and then I dip
Say she want to take a trip well here's yo shroom take it
Have her seeing hyenas and sh*t, like a safari
I'm on Safari you should Google me b*tch
Before I put this Google Chrome and show yo' ass some digital sh*t
I say it straight to yo face, no subliminal b*tch
I slide through like I'm gumby
It's like Return of the Mummy, sh*t'll get ugly
Cause n*ggas in the field, no rugby
b*tches want to f*ck me, tell her that she lucky if I touch thee c*nty
I was probably riding out on my huffy, one deep
Riding through these streets like I ain't me, I'm a wolf
n*gga and you looking like a black sheep
You would make a nice shirt, but it's too hot for the long sleeve
You looking cotton soft, I feed you to my offspring, f*ck you
[Verse 4: Mike Dece]
What the f*ck you need b*tch
Never sold a copy I sell rocksies and I clean sh*t
Cleaner than crispy, sort of like Whitney you O.D. b*tch
Inhaling and smoking on sh*t that's so potent it's making me see sh*t
She's praising my c*m like it's Jesus
I stay with the green, its too filthy for the OZ of it
A forest of trees, smoke so thick I can not breathe in it
Who's working like me b*tch? I'm taking your millis' like Regis did
When you answer "B" but, playing these games will not give you sh*t
And neither will we, but the drugs set you up with a gun to your lips
I'm high as can be so, I do not really give a sh*t like toilet for pee
Just like Humsy and Bill which I say with a brick, so f*ck the police
Sort of like bops on the cops they can suck my di*k, not literally
Hoe said I'm cliche so I spray on her tits
She ice and she gliss, she's covered in jizz
Killing these b*tches like serial disses
I leave them exquisitely killed in the trenches
Like water they wet
And my pistol is best cause it lock on like jaw when I sent to the head and I kill
You want some pills, I got tanks I got bells
Yes I know I'm killing you, but I have to pay the bills
Hoe I got sticks like a f*cking stick drill
Up in the lot like I'm [?] crack, all I know is how to kill
Decipher your head leave you split like her legs, or the motherf*cking seal
Cut these faggots up like some f*cking fish scale
Colored beam pointed at the demons where they dwell
Kill a faggot cop, send his ass back to hell