Grind Mode Cypher – Don't Fu[n]k Up Our Beats V Lyrics

PYONG!
0

You pyonged “Grind Mode Cypher – Don't Fu[n]k Up...”

Save Note No Thanks
Follow
Caution: You are now annotating this song as

[Verse 1: Lingo]
You wanna battle with me, you choose death
But war doesn't prove who's right, just who's left
Now you're swepped under the rug, so who's checked?
Ain't talking about a shirt when I say your crew next
I'll bust a rhyme, extinction level event
You seeing heaven or hell, I think you better repent
Fallen angels, mauled and mangled, starved and strangled
I got more lives than than all the Bengals
Eye of the tiger, we riding for higher
Grind mode defined so retire your liars
My attire crown cause I'm the sire
With world wide connects just like firewire
20/20 headlines spitting the best
Grind like it's hindsight, give my vision a test
That grind non-stop and my living is blessed
Fuck the cops, I don't sleep, I'm resisting arrest

[Verse 2: Passionate MC]
I'll smash on you novices fast like the flash from photographers
Force like the wrath of a God that hits harder than Apocalypse
Then lap Usain Bolt in a race while my back was chained close to a cargo ship
You ain't popping clips, claiming that you draw guns
When you wouldn't draw blood as a phlebotomist
I'll squeeze the bow, cock it quick, shoot you, reload
Then shoot you again with the same arrow I just shot you with

Cause when I get to shooting
I'll have 'em seeing more arrows than an Asian playing Dance, Dance, Revolution

When I advance for your execution
Strong enough to rip the mic with your hands still connected to it
Fine Archer, Rhyme Awkward, Bind Torture
Quicker than a flying saucer
You're not as fast me - it's Passion's need just to have MC's
Gashed and bleed when I stab and leave like Assassin's Creed

[Verse 3: Hamza]
Lyrically you're getting jabbed in the face, stabbed with a stake
I'm running circles around 'em like I'm lapping a race
Coming at me like you want a nigga, that's a mistake
We the move team, I'm putting niggas back in their place
Bitch, I'm higher than the satelitte for NASA in space
Put my ear to the game like I'm cracking a safe
Hear you talk about your bitch ass fat in the waist
Big titties, but that bitch look like Shag in the face
Now that's a disgrace, you about to have your chapter erased
You niggas couldn't see Maz with a map of the states
I'm so sharp with the tongue when I'm rapping it straight
Feel like I spit 'em out full of broken glass in your face
Man, it's bars over bullshit, I'm back in the race
So if you niggas in my lane you better mash in your brakes
This is my house, all you kids yapping away
Go fuck around and get touched like the Jackson estate, nigga

[Verse 4: O]
And if I do decide to help, I'mma be your ride to Hell
Free of charge, it'll be like pasta when you swallow shells
And I know that one day I'mma probably get that ride as well
But it's like the clock's a snitch - only time will tell
They used to tell me rap's irrelevant, it bores the art
Punch him so hard his fucking skeleton just falls apart
I wouldn't start, kid, you barking up the wrong tree
I'm so fucking hard that my heart's made of concrete
You don't want beef, Soco ignites me
Man, I'm about to mix my drinks like Coco and Ice T
Once this whole shit is sung we sharp enough to injure
Leave crowds looking like that college in Virginia

Sick as cancer, rap's Adam Lanza
Do the math, I'm a fucking problem, here's the answer
So get your cameras and focus, man
They picking up broken teeth with broken hands

[Verse 5: KNS]
Now I'm the best is what they yapping
But if you listen to their tracklist you'll need an Aspirin
Cause them niggas been gay
And when it comes to plugging these hoes, Lord knows
I always bring a extra pair of clothes like it's gym day
You wanna talk cash with me then have your shit straight
I've always been known to keep it a hundred, I've been frank

And by your gear it's clear these fags in debt
But would be rich if the banks cash reality checks
This shit I spit got 'em hip, like bring that line right back
But I don't see , I'm still sick with this dime I tap
So why they talking designer and how they be too G
But if you look I'm the only real G you see
See, I can see why they be mad when I'm flexing
Cause I just spelled out Gucci, and they ain't even catch it

Now you see, I be why they calling it quits
(?) fuck a pardon my French

[Verse 6: Marshall Law]
I bring cats to your hood like a Jag' coupe
His asswhopping been late, that means past due
I'll beat the brakes of the ass who that gassed you
I ball out, and I know how to fight; Shaq Fu
Fuck how these losers rhyme, bitch, I'm shooting nines
Your ass cross me on Jesus I'll get you crucified
Catch you in my hood wearing the wrong starter cap
And I'mma beat the motherfucking sweet out that Pinata ass
You better (?), jump off before we meet up
Ain't nothing non-violent about me throwing this piece up
Get comfy and start flashing grins
And I'mma crack up your motherfucking head like ashy skin
It's Marshall Law, and I'm back again
Try and rip me and I'll engrave your name with that acronym
You know ''rest in peace'', ''dead deceased''
I'll get you pilled for a stack then roll like ecstacy, easy

Edit song description to add:

  • Historical context: what album the song's on, how popular it was
  • An explanation of the song's overall story (example: "In this song, Eminem corresponds with a crazed fan who ends up...")
  • The sample used for the beat — use WhoSampled.com and wikipedia as references
Song lyrics have been changed by someone else. Copy your work to your clipboard and click here to reload.