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Cynik, Part of C.Y. Crew. F*ck that band that has the Name Corrupted Youth.
The name is Cynik; what more can I say? Whatever, check out the music, and have fun...
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #463
Peak in subgenre #271
Author
Cynik
Uploaded
July 20, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.3 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
Chorus:
Now dont be trippin when we have to ride
You better get up on our side
Cuz we gon get'cha when we pass you by
You better be up on our side
Now aint no reason that you have to die
You better be up on our side
We rollin' witcha whether laugh or cry
So come and get up on our side...
This be my style, no smiles, now hurry lets see/
Cuz i'm more loud and 'wild' than cherry Pepsi/
Oh you a bull in this game, oh really thats-so?/
Well i'ma step in thang and have you lassoed/
Tied up at the limbs and tongue/
And while I climb to the top, you gon sit in the slums/
I'll tear your life strands apart, and shit in your world/
And put more fear in your heart than you can get from your girl/
And i aint talkin' when she trippin and bitchin or none of that/
I'm talkin' when she sick and aint comin' up with them cramps/
Got you walkin' round, talkin' like, "fuckin' bitch"/
If you feel what i'm sayin' then bump this shit/
Its a new fuckin' era america come along/
I am speakin' only truth but i'm darin' ya on the song/
Just take a ride with the Cynikal/
You wanna represent the west, bitch this is how...
** Chorus **
Bridge:
I'm that Hip-Hop fiend, in charge of renaissance
If your shit pops clean, then pause and let it off
You the wrist watch king, then come and bet it all
Fuck the shit talking, you know who said it dawg
If you bout that shit, then aim and let it blow
Come up out that whip, quit playing and let it show
Aint no how's and if, we major ready yo
To blaze your stereo, with flames now let it flow...
Verse #2:
Now i aint wearin' no chucks, am I short of an "allstar"?/
Hell no, i got sounds thats movin' them parked cars/
Reeboks on the feet just state that i'ma 'classic'
You got a spot on the street, then i'ma trash it/
Expose you, to some brand new tactics/
While 'rippin' like a small dress on a fat chick/
And that sh*t, is how its s'pose to go/
Instead of havin' other writers go and ghost ya flow/
And thats yo' voice, but who's workin' the pen?/
Thats when the questions come around full circle again/
And then you're stuck, what, cuz even worse than a lie/
You sittin' there stuck without a worthy reply/
So now you're tight rope walkin' without a balance beam/
You a brand new artist without a talent scheme/
Its so cruddy, but the funniest sh*t/
He came in this game, took your money and split...
**talking & Chorus**
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