Doin' Time In The Cypha

Mad Skillz

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    *bunch of emcees talkin about a cypha*

    {verse 1}
    I put roots on emcees who try to fade these, lyrics
    Kid please, i got the microphone disease
    And i don't joke when it's time to go to work
    Whack emcees play like pee-wee herman and get jerked
    In the cypher mad skillz gets hyper
    More heads show up, and now the shits gettin tighter
    Huh, i find it hard to breathe, bass line strummin
    Money is gettin hot but the lyrics keep, comin'
    Feel like i'm trapped inside my mother's womb
    Adrenaline's flowin, it's bound to be a battle soon
    Peep it, this is our secret garden
    Niggas'll represent and end up heads-a-noddin
    On the corners, whithout the mics
    Inside the clubs, whithout the spotlights
    Packed and tight like we were all doin the bid
    Fuck were ya from it's time to shoot ya lyrics kid
    Yo flip the script, if you'll act time'll tell
    Aww shit my man lit up the l
    So you go for your's, i'ma go for mine
    Rapper after rapper, rhyme after rhyme
    Hardcore punchlines and then comes the riddles
    It's like gettin high when i'm standin in the middle
    So freestyle fanatics and ya badass writers?
    Ya shit aint real unless it's real in the cypher, uh

    Chorus: (x4)
    On the corners, brothas bobbin' heads
    From them all doin time in the cypha

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    {verse 2}
    The cypha keeps it real! bring nothin' but ya flowin'
    Minus the static and some batteries for your radio, cuz yo
    Skills are vital if ya enter
    I've seen niggas lose titles just for standin in the, center
    Can ya feel it? can ya feel the vibe?
    It looks like we beefin' to the people walkin by
    The feeling's real and aint nobody fake
    So go acapella while my man flips the tape
    I close my eyes and think for a while
    Money changed the beat, different heads, different styles, yeah
    Who's next to flex? yeah you know the deal
    Chillin in the cypha where the shit is maaaaad real

    Chorus

    {verse 3}
    Representation, minus comfrontation
    Keeps shit funky with the funky sensation
    So step up kid, come on kid step up front
    And peep out my man while he's rhymin with the blunt
    Some kids bring the funk, some kids bring the dissin
    Some kids are just whack, but everybody's listenin'
    Yeah ya gotta give respect, ? when respect is due
    Fuck the bullshit, and the cypha shit is true
    The rhymes get spit and the 40's get tapped
    Some niggas don't have jack, some niggas got contracts
    Representation keep the brothas tighta
    Peace to emcees who did time in the cypha

    Chorus

    Yeah, keepin it live for '95, no doubt... it's cypha time, only emcees know
    What i'm talkin about.... yeah....

    Información de la canción

    Composición: W. Allen

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