Nick Wiz ft. Cella Dwellas ft. Sean Price - “Cypha”
[Emcee(s): Phantasm, Sean Price, and U.G.]
[Producer(s): Nick Wiz (Same Instrumental as Nick Wiz - “Lava”)]
[Verse 1: Phantasm]
Duke, don’t even get your crew amped
Them dudes can’t fuck with Dwellas and Boot Camp—bet you
Cash or food stamps some real street action figures
Come complete with big gats and triggers
Big caps for n***as. Duck Down when these soldiers
Come around. Bucktown is where I rest
So hold me down. Check my man P—he sells
Caravans for cheap, wrecks beef with techniques
That’s antique. Let this man speak and spit raps
Then kickback and eat a KitKat whilе you chitchat
On how my shit’s wack. CDs don’t stop
‘Til the end. And run, go tell your friеnd. Fuck it, and we’re
Coming again (Ha!)
[Verse 2: Sean Price]
Ayyo, you can’t manage this
The boss scandalous from here to Los Angeles
Ruckus tossing the random shit, but can you get with that n***a
Tawl Sean manuscript? Man, you shit all up in your pants
When the cannon click. Man, I flip on n***as
For no apparent reason, squeezing shots at you heathens
To stop you from breathing. Call the cops ‘cause he’s bleeding
I think he needs some CPR. See, we are the illest n***as
Out that’s on your TV, pa. When you see me, pa
Better have your fucking shit straight. You’re fifth, mate. Nobody move
I think your shit fake, you fishcake. Whenever the fuck
Ruck dictate, the shit rate higher than shows
Made by Rick Lake. Yo, lick eight shots at
Them n***as who be fucking with international, Irrational
B-I-G Ruckus, bitch. Enough of this talking. I’m ready
To start setting shit. Peep the etiquette of a n***a
That’s known for wetting shit
[Verse 3: U.G.]
UG bodies tracks
I whip cats like blacks in Amistad
Hold gats like guards in armored cars, I rip
Squads with Ruck and ‘em, Rock put a slug in ‘em
If we wasn’t rap stars, we’d be mugging ‘em
Fuck that. I bust gats, son, I’m reckless
When the TEC spits, it drops squares like Tetris
Trample like Jerome Bettis, rap specialist
You’ll think John Woo directed it the way I edit shit
With gunplay, my funds stay stacked, n***a
One day, I’ll sway in Ac’ Vigors
My back to the track, n***as, I’ll slap n***as tasteless
A Masta like Ace is with rap pages—what?!?
