HOPSIN


Lunch Time Cypher Lyrics

[Intro]
Yo man
Let's take this shit back to f*ckin' high
school lunch time cyphers
When mother f*ckers was beat boxin'
And kickin' ill ass flows in the f*ckin'
cafeteria
f*ck all that Hollywood shit!
Let's f*cking rap, man

[Verse 1]
Yo, check it
This that high school lunch time cypher
I might just step in this bitch and f*ck ya
life up
I hope the principal doesn't come and give
me a write up
Now who the f*ck I gotta snatch the mic
from?
I spend a long time tryna build the buzz
Hop is in the building, cuz
Step to me upon this battlefield, you know
I will erupt
Didn't change, I'm still a nut
The girls seen my skills are up
So I be gettin' head every single night
like a pillow does
When a nigga be flow bashin'
You know I be keepin it old fashioned
My compassion is so tragic on instrumentals
when I toe jag it
Throw dirt on me? Then guard your face and
stomach
Cause I'm swinging on you like ya ass
cheeks had a rope hangin' from it
I'm out my mind, I can't configure it
I'm way too niggerish
I tried to read the Bible but I'm straight
illiterate
With anger temperaments
I put myself in strange predicaments
They labeled this as sick
The doctor says to take some Ritalin
Man, I'm a lunatic
Rockin' a crucifix
I'll mack on any chick I feel who got the
cutest tits
I'm wanted, fugitive
Robbin' yo whip to cruise in it
See, I'm the only kid on Elm Street that
Freddy Krueger skipped
Pants saggin' cause they too loose to fit
I'm torcherous
Grab a hammer and nail for your front door
and board it shut
I stare deep in ya eyes, rip out your soul
and absorb it up
And have Biggie Smalls yellin' out "Call
the coroner!"
My groupies stay horny
They always call to say "Hopsin can you fly
me out to Cali? Please pay for me"
I make that p*ssy pop for you like you
skateboarding
Then you can come inside like a hurricane
warning
I got a lot of sluts
I like to call Hopsilut
But now I feel like having sex with these
bitches is not enough
I needed something new for moments when I
gotta bust
So lately I've been beating my dick with a
pair of boxing gloves
I got the maddest rhymes
How dare yo ass deny
I'll stab you in the brain with a knife
You can keep that in mind
You talkin' shit inside yo house?
Cool. Fine. f*ck it
I'll break in and stomp you out inside of
it
Ain't tryna be ya friend
I'll knock you out and when you wake up
I'll just be standin' there with a
mischievous grin
Like "Ha. We meet again"
I'll puncture yo skin with a crack fiend's
syringe
And drill your nut sack to the seat your in
You want props? You don't deserve it,
you're not ill
I won't stop 'til every rapper lurkin' has
got chills
Why these niggas actin' like they certainly
pop steels when the only time they're
carrying heat is serving a hot meal
Since I was young I've been on a mission to
make doe and put all my niggas on like this
shit was a slave boat
So tell me why your songs sound like
skittles and rainbows?
That's a dead give away you love to listen
to Wayne bros
I'm sick and deranged when I'm spitting
this strange flow
Stuck my dick in the game that's the
business I came for
Witness my pay grow, I don't kick it with
lame folks
Simple and plain though,you're gonna
remember the name hoe.

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these lyrics are submitted by BURKUL4
Songwriter(s): Marcus Hopson, Kyle Gobern, Jaron Johnson
Record Label(s): 2013 Funk Volume Hopsin
Official lyrics by

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