Lyrics
acting like you run shit
now i m on the come up no need to run up with your gun up
You know the flavor i gets deep like the grave, stayed off the stage writting page after page
wating for papes fills my mind state with hate
i create since the days of the cameo fame
You could never catch me empty handed at the mic stance, acting like you run shit, using microphones set it off like the fuse in the cipher zone
Freestyling while i cut the cross fade like a blade, fuck that i slay crews since days of 1982
As i m tellin crews be gellin, rockin em in boston cause yo we ain t soft when i blow spots off
You could never catch me empty handed at the mic stance, if you re new on the set don t forget to pay dues, understand i m fed flippin like tails and head
Wating for papes fills my mind state with hate, acting like you run shit
mc s act stuck up but get they cars plugged cause they shit is butt
Now i m paid in the trade like special ed got it made, i pay dues we work hard payin dues Dues, wating for papes fills my mind state with hate
Mc s act stuck up but get they cars plugged cause they shit is butt, the rap race is mad fucked up
Assholes be like yo know you got s to pay dues, as i m tellin crews be gellin Dues, you know the flavor i gets deep like the grave
Acting like you run shit, rappin all that dumb shit, wating for papes fills my mind state with hate
i pay my dues and shit guru x4
You know the flavor i gets deep like the grave, i create since the days of the cameo fame
hit your spleen box and leave you fiendin for oxygen
you could never catch me empty handed at the mic stance
from sun up to sun down i run sounds
Now i m paid in the trade like special ed got it made, headcracks i gave when tomahawk like a brave Cipher, acting like you run shit
You know the flavor i gets deep like the grave, now i m on the come up no need to run up with your gun up, and that s the test act like you got a clue
And that s the test act like you got a clue, fuck that i slay crews since days of 1982
you could never catch me empty handed at the mic stance
Hit the cheeba sip a liter of tequila, and that s the test act like you got a clue
Blunts got me all high, using microphones set it off like the fuse in the cipher zone
They stack doe and try to stake me off the cash flow, then step collect my props and be out with the skins or punany, if you re new on the set don t forget to pay dues
stayed off the stage writting page after page
From sun up to sun down i run sounds, as i m tellin crews be gellin Dues, blunts got me all high
Uzis and toolies they just don t impress, now i m paid in the trade like special ed got it made
Acting like you run shit, laid stunts like i forgot, i bust rough cuts and never trust promoters at a show
understand i m fed flippin like tails and head
From sun up to sun down i run sounds, so don t come running up askin about the dues i ve paid Cipher, you know the flavor i gets deep like the grave
Rappin all that dumb shit, you could never catch me empty handed at the mic stance Dues, acting like you run shit
As i m tellin crews be gellin, using microphones set it off like the fuse in the cipher zone
I bust rough cuts and never trust promoters at a show, you know the flavor i gets deep like the grave, so don t come running up askin about the dues i ve paid
Freestyling while i cut the cross fade like a blade, as i m tellin crews be gellin
stayed off the stage writting page after page
Blunts got me all high, you know the flavor i gets deep like the grave
Uzis and toolies they just don t impress, hit the cheeba sip a liter of tequila
blunts got me all high
Rhymes blow your outter skeleton if your styles relevent, i create since the days of the cameo fame
I create since the days of the cameo fame, my point of views through payin dues
Assholes be like yo know you got s to pay dues, you could never catch me empty handed at the mic stance
As i m tellin crews be gellin, wating for papes fills my mind state with hate
You know the flavor i gets deep like the grave, using microphones set it off like the fuse in the cipher zone, the rap race is mad fucked up
In 92 i spent my days in the ymca, freestyling while i cut the cross fade like a blade
Then step collect my props and be out with the skins or punany, rhymes blow your outter skeleton if your styles relevent, understand i m fed flippin like tails and head
The rap race is mad fucked up, i bust rough cuts and never trust promoters at a show
freestyling while i cut the cross fade like a blade
As i m tellin crews be gellin, the rap race is mad fucked up