#12For12 Boston – Green Street Jungle Cypher Lyrics

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[Verse: Avenue]

Guess who’s bizzack, probably thought I fell off of the map
But now I'm back to take over the globe
They mad at me but ain't controlling they hoes
And these shorties wanna fuck as bad as I do, knowing they role
Been in the streets since '06, couple niggas died since
Windows down, roof gone, scared niggas ride tens
Go through your plugs for drugs, I get mine sent
Papi shippin first class, shit I ain't fly since
Let me talk my shit, your clothing is plain
Burberry skydiving, I open the plane
Just bought a new whip, but im still hoping for change
You probably should do the same instead of focus on James
Why I shop in Morocco, wristwear Mavado
Black and white bands, swear it look mulatto
Nah, but really it’s just one of a kind
I swear it’s so flooded out you gotta wonder the time, and I’m Ave signing off

[Intro: Alage]

Ok then, uh, uh, listen, uh, listen, uh, check it, check it

[Verse: Alage]

I’m from the dark side, Fat Joe
That hammer clap babies die, mothers go through it
Father left me at the age when it really counted
I had to learn shit on my own time, make up my own grind
B-ball was the sport, he was D-Wade
Just the feeling of getting buckets when I wanted to
I was in my zone getting ready bumping Carter 2
Shooting jump shots before the game, that’s what ballers do
Right, you lose the feel for this shit
When you hearing that your peoples getting killed in the bricks
Make you wanna pick that heater up and riiide
Could be that next nigga goin channel fiiive
Uh, I’m alive here for a purpose cuz I see so many good niggas go way too early in time
Shit ain’t really worth it when you think about it
Leprechaun chips I’m after think about it

[Intro: Moe Pope]

Yeah, 1-2, yeah, check it out yeah

[Verse: Moe Pope]

Yo, stop buddy I’m major, lasers in your right hand
All hail the sound guy who put the mic on the stand
For what you shake the earth with, heated up the ozone
Sweatin up the scene a bit but I’m as cool as snow cones
Bastard, if it ain’t dope it ain't classic
And if it ain't classic then I don’t wanna have it
And if I don’t have it well then it don’t exist
And no this ain't a diss, this is Moe Pope-ane
Frank O’Hara poems and a little bit of cocaine
Words in the sky look like invisible airplanes
See me in the clouds screaming louder at close range
Make me wanna throw things, start a fucking fight with em
Birds we better slice, get 'em, up and off the edge
Put my vocals in the red, guess you didn’t know the ledge
But im illa, and I’m stormin your villa
Got a lady to fill up, ask Rain who the killa
Godzilla the great glorious fantastic
Godzilla the great glorious fantastic
Word, word, threes up, let’s go

[Verse: Reem]

Look, check
So much is on my mind, it’s like I can’t breathe
Prayin for the success I wish god would hand me
They so obsessed with being a damn G
I’m so obsessed with touching a Grammy, look
My eyes low, I can’t see, talking to shorty on the phone
I wonder if she knows I’m more stoned than Angie
My ass on the line, cause I couldn’t fuck with Plan B
If not, I’m playing with death, Billy and Mandy
Hoping this poetry comes in handy
Had dreams of the throne, my niggas and me
Catch us around more tree than Bambi
It’s the blessed one, homies say ha-choo
The streets say I’m the one and shorty said I’m cute
Some niggas claim king, but they not true
I sleep to the same dream so the future is my déjà vu
Nigga they not you, original shit
Self-motivate, no escape I know it’s fate
Wasting time on pussy but there’s more on my plate
There’s never any peace in the belly of the beast
In this life that I know it’s meant to be
But fuck it make moves nigga
And if you beat me to the top make room nigga
Cause I can work it out like a fucking weight room nigga
The city told me stay true, nigga
And even in the flames, stay cool nigga
So tell me lies cause the truth is overrated, beat my dick til im motivated
And wake up in these lights like I know it’s Vegas
Dead niggas in my pockets like I know these faces
Me and my niggas in the house like a home invasion
Them people want Reem more than a snow vacation
I know you thinking, present the fire in the coldest nation
They been feening for that Hype shit I know you waitin'
I said I know you waitin', they been feening for that hype shit I know you waitin'
Gentleman’s Club, nigga, 12 for 12

[Verse: D-Note]

Welcome to the jungle where the real survive apparently
Not envision the clarity
Nigga I ain’t dead I left temporarily, uh
It’s a conspiracy, you niggas is parodies
Hear the sincerity, fear cause I’m here to be the best of the world, Craig
Not just the city, the world

This rap money will buy that diamond for my girl
And some pearls for my mama, bring her to Nirvana
My teen spirit got me wylin'
like there’s a problem
The money’s calling so I pick up
Smooth flow a little slicker
You boys glitter, and I’m waiting for you to slip up
Got my finger on the trigger, it’s just waiting to blow
I'll be the greatest, I’m creating the show
I’m still shaping my flow, getting around like I’m dating them hoes
Great, amazing, I’m both
My life I’m making a toast
I’m tryna be what you’ve never seen
Told my mom I’ll be the best she said, "You better be..."
Dreaming about the money that I needed ‘round yesterday
I need a mil just to start to have better days

My cousin yelling, “Nigga, write yo, we gotta blow, they gotta know"
Ivory coast tripping for bad bitches exotic smoke

Scheming, dreaming bout some dollars
These other niggas stunting with no talent we hotter
We gotta, we gotta start stacking cheese that ricotta
Nobody can stop me I’m harder than copper, it ain’t my fault
Silk the Shocker with two choppas, I see murder
Got a master plan, no time to be a Romeo
Waiting to rise like the holy ghost
They know we close to the top, we only know who to drop
We rolling cold, if you hot, no empathy shone
You get killed if you step off the throne to go home
Yo im here like I never left
The Love The Life The Limits, nigga, take a breath

[Verse: Natural]

Yo, it’s Natural, AKA The bartender
Yo, bout to make this shit a dumb track
It’s young Nat winning races while you hung back
The city’s on my back like a fucking backpack
And haters on my dick tryna say I spit wack raps
White dudes all say I’m tryna act black
And black dudes sayin' hard is what the fucking track lacks
I say green is what the track makes
Plus I’m real, half these other dudes just act fake
Oh well, guess I’m tryna get my mode right
Two women underneath my arms like Old Spice
Fuck one? Kid I’m tryna bang a few
My skully cap black, white writing with the kangaroo
Girls staring, hey ma I see you
Stunting in my three piece suit looking GQ
Wait 'til I'm done with this track like P-U
Like that’s nasty, Nat, why you gotta doo doo?
Ha, fucking rappers buncha pip squeaks
Natural, the kid’ll leave your boys up shits creek
Walking 'round like your shit don’t stink
Or the fact that you think that your chick didn’t wink
Whatever helps you sleep better
I eat better, beat better, freak better, even speak better
I’ll grind in the bean til it’s coffee
Haters like flies, swat gets 'em off me
All it takes is one verse she’s an instant fan
Next day popping up on my Instagram
She don’t care if it’s Droid or an iPhone
Either way I bone and act so distant, man

Y'all a bunch of rappers, or a bunch of actors?
This white boy’s on fire, get it? Fire cracker
About to blow up, screw what your tallies say
I get nasty like an alleyway on St. Patty’s Day

[Intro: Dutch ReBelle]

Bargang, mother-FN Bargang (Bargang)
Bargang, mother-FN Bargang (Bargang)
Bargang, mother-FN Bargang (Bargang)
Yao, yao

[Verse: Dutch ReBelle]

Ayo I'm good with the goons, held down by the henchmen
Cause they say I'm bad in the school, I paid attention
Dutch an A+, but I spit like detention
Came in this game like a flame not to mention this
Beantown at ya neck like a hoodie tag
Gang green by the sack, call 'em goodie bags
Road runner, I bring the looney toons out
So I don't gotta grip guns to bring the goons out
Real recognize real when you see it
Used to read the Source one day hoping to be it
Told 'em I could rhyme, but they couldn't really see it
Til I did a couple shows, now they calling me the sheeit
I tell the truth when I step up in the booth
I dominate the ring as soon as they hear the ding
I'm giving 'em everything, blood, tears, and the sweat
Going hard on these broads til I'm hard to forget
Financial frustrations test the patience of my niggas
In this brick jungle tryna stack my bundles while my guts rumble
And they dare to point a finger at my actions
Holding the whole pie never care to share a fraction so
Dollar signs fuel the fires in my youths' eyes
Mixing pies soundtrack to a fiend's cry
These cries spit it off the top never flop
Bars if I drop it I'mma pick it up, now lock it out
Like I'm Jamaican, Dutchy never faking
Bars come ever blazing, Sean Paul when I stall never that
Rolling up a goodie sack
And I'm chilling 12 for 12 you mothafucka where we at
Keep it going if we never slowing
Keep it faster if you niggas wanna see me after
Spitting mids for the kids for them other niggas
Thinking that we funny go and get your fucking brother nigga
Get your older sister, we gon spit it out
With Caliph up on the track yeah we spit it __
Not at all, if you ever cross, leave you double-crossed
Dutch cum in your mouth like some fucking floss
Bitch

[Intro: Caliph]

Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, Uh, look, uh

[Verse: Caliph]

They say lyrics don’t sell, well, that’s irrelevant
When I’m piping the game, we’ll see who is celibate
I know they bugging and wondering what I’m on here
The kid shine cause the buzz bubble like a Montclair
Aw yeah, you in the game I can see that
A threat to your future is courtside in a lawn chair
My mother’s neighbors are pregnant teens, crack addicts
What you think I rap for? Just to take a whack at it?
Insane, you must be out your frame
I grew up in the hood and the hood is where I remain
Never picking up quarters to sell dimes and nickels
So I guess it’s ironic that I’m here to bring change
Huh, I was coming from another world, like Jesus
I wonder what that shuttle’s worth (Shuttlesworth)
In other words I ain’t re-rock cane
But the pops behind the bars so He Got Game,
so ah
Tell your favorite rapper he a target
I’m at Martin Lawrence apartment with that fifth floor and I been cold
Just jump in your window like Birdman and I’m schizo
Big-headed like Gina, but your flow light as her skin tone
Yo, this ain’t a party we just crashed it
Two thirds of that Massive, and D hype and we rashing
Bad chicks, bad chicks, all I want is bad chicks
So if she look like Whoopi, then I’m Ghost, Patrick
GK

[Intro: Casso]

Ok, ok, check, uh, uh
Yo by the way stop sleepin on my city
Yo, yo, yo, check

[Verse: Casso]

I’m not a fucking people person, stop reaching for my hand
Just cause we do affiliate don’t mean that we are friends
I bare my fucking soul, don't give a fuck who I offend
Said I hate her on the track, then I fucked the bith again
Minnetonka moccasins, Annie Mulz the white tee
Say your ass in trouble, nigga you ain’t nothing like me
Heard your last album, you might wanna bite me
If I told you I knew your girl, you might wanna fight me
Nigga don’t be senile, nigga don’t be senile
Heard your best track, that shit sound like my freestyle
Sonnin’ all these rappers, made a song for each child
That fifteen minutes of fame? Approaching about a week now
See, where I’m from they spot outsiders by looking at you
If that gun jam, they stop and throw the bullet at you
Don’t come here if you ain’t really from here
This ain’t where it started at but yeah, we get it done here
Ain't in the same building, ain't on the same floor
When we go to piss, we don’t use the same door
You claim money talk, and you wish you could save more
I’m on break having lunch, who done tell you to take yours?
Ahh, look, veni, vidi, vici
Pick your head up when you see me, you’re encouraged to beseech me
And if you want it dog, it ain’t hard to reach me
I know this is rock bottom, you niggas still beneath me

[Intro: Soupa]

Here we go, ay, ay

[Verse: Soupa]

So many dope rappers, I think I’ll be a manager
Coming off the top, I’m finna kick it with the stamina
Everyone professional, none of us are amateurs
Step up in the club, all the shorties can’t stand me, bruh
What you know about her spilling my drinks
I’m coming through summertime, I’m still chilling in minks
Yo no shirt or I’m chillin with links
With my tats out
You know what’s good, you see my DVD blowing they backs out
Coming through got the Air Max out
Yeah I’m on my hood shit, but I make them crack out
Yeah, I’m just coming off the top fuck it
I been smoking so fuck it if I flop
Motherfuck it I’ll be late or I’m not
Still comin through the spot
Everything I spit is hot
Yeah my rhymes is simplistic
I kick it on some pimp shit
Chilling with my skater niggas, ill like a kickflip
And I'm still grinding, freestyle rhyming
What you know about it, Ville side and I’m shining
Kick it from the Ville side, kick it on some chill shit
You niggas wanna ride for bitches wanna chill with
What you know about it, they call me Soupa
Coming through with your bitch tryna pass the loofa
Nah it isn’t soap, I be hanging like a rope
Shootin like dope, I’m a baller quote
Nigga, I don’t give a fuck
12 For 12 all my niggas gon’ live it up
We keep it funky like some monkeys
We kick that dope shit like some fucking junkies
12 For 12 what’s good nigga

[Intro: Black EL]

Yo, hol up, real quick tho, you kill that real quick?

[Verse: Black EL]

Alright yo
Rather be dead honest than live a lie
Most niggas petrified
Talk about the money that they never set aside
They ok with getting by, not I
Diversified bonds but can take it to the sky
Tryna be the man my pops is
Let the truth bare it all like she topless
Know it sounds obnoxious
Once it’s laid down you can’t stop this
Once it’s laid down you can’t stop this
(Ha) I'm in it, it’s documented
Send it to my brother, he complimented
Ain’t all pleasant how we represented
Take it to the Senate, a lieutentant kills an unarmed black tenant
Bet it coulda been prevented, but we let it happen
I hate saying that I’m into rapping
Every day interaction as I’m passing the face-created caption
Thoughts on my sleeve, I should get into fashion
Shoutout to Mike and Matt in the CJB
In house we about to just E-A-T
Boston a nigga can’t catch a C-A-B
This my heart attack someone call the E-M-T
Peace to Chi-Ali, age ain’t nothing but a number
Rocking 9th wonder, in my ’89 summer
If I’m six feet under in my slumber
Just play this here, in my latest gear
Hear the ladies cheer, like, like now, that’s it, there it is

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