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​​wifisfuneral

"XXL Freshmen 2014 Cypher - Part 3"

[Verse 1: Jon Connor]
It’s Jon Connor, the people’s rapper
Uh, look, ey, start with a dream, young and naïve and then they grow the ambition
f*cked up conditions, put my mom’s in a better position
See I’m the future like a psychic prediction
I’m from the school of hard knocks, sh*t I did life in detention
I’m from where n*ggas get shot down, dreams get shot down
Wish the hood would let us live but all we heard was “block out”
Now I’m further than what they believed I’d achieve
‘Cause Flint n*ggas don’t even want you to have dreams when you sleep
Low expectations, no expectations, know what you facing
f*ck the odds I proved you can get up from under a basement
I been with scandalous b*tches that will take you for granted
Roll with scandalous n*ggas only taking advantage
People take your kindness for weakness, taking you through the ringer
It’s a gang bang, life is a b*tch and it’s not a pre-nup
Life is dirty, sh*t box dirty, and we’re playing clean-up
Go through the Ike & Tina, before the Martin & Gina
I play follow the leader and I done swam with the sharks made it out the Aquafina
n*ggas turned into leeches, turned these swamps into beaches
My people saying "Eureka!", n*ggas pretend, they hate you, they despise you, they ain’t you
n*ggas is full of sh*t that’s why they probably empty
God promised a feast how you gon’ tempt me with Denny's
n*ggas and b*tches rats, stay away from mickey's and minnie’s
I fend for this city, when I ain’t have a friend in this city
Adding in your two cents? I’ll show you what to do with them pennies, look
My intellect been a wreck, crash course on this real sh*t
In Flint, every day is a Virginia Tech, f*ck rating on the internet
f*ck what popping off in comments, pop off in public
My n*ggas is into that, Jon Connor AVM, Aftermath, best in the world n*gga!

[Verse 2: Jarren Benton]
Uh, Jarren Benton, half-man, half-tyrannosaurus
I wasn’t born I was thrown out a spaceship and landed in an abandoned forest
The Grizzly bear trapped Goldilocks in a pan of porridge
I carve my name in ya f*ckin’ scalp, you can’t ignore us
Go get a damn thesaurus, the preacher, the son of God
Only way you f*ckin’ with Mister Benton, no façade
I put a man in the desert sand, that’s no mirage
I go gambit on n*ggas and pull your poker cards
I go loco mark open heart surgery, with no power tools
A f*ckin’ monster, I will devour you
I’m Cujo and cocaine with rabies in them
These kids dying like Casey Anthony babysitting
I’ll f*ckin’ f*ckin’ rip your tonsils out
And throw your dead corpse in a tool shed in my uncle’s house
I got love for Lil' Boosie but free Mumia
These n*ggas signing like three-sixty deals for two New Kias
sh*t, TLC got a Rav-4
You might catch me in a Prius with a bad whore
I snatch a rapper out the sunroof of a Jaguar
You ain’t a spitter, then what the f*ck do you rap for?
n*ggas like “I ain’t a rapper, I’m a trapper”
Then stay inside the trap or get eaten by the f*ckin’ master
Of ceremonies, it's hip hop, with a gold rope and a pair of ponies
Can't grab a b*tch by the ponytail ‘cause the hair is phony
Moving from African Gods to Amistad
To n*ggas going broke and still stuntin' in they momma’s car
It’s FV twenty-one-four, the summer’s ours
And you a b*tch in a woman’s skirt, son of a coward
The fireman, I extinguish these n*ggas out fast
I grew up off of Red, Em, Goodie Mob, and Outkast
I keep the Wu-Tang sword propped on the front seat
That’s your favorite rapper? To me that n*gga just lunch meat
Jarren Benton, Rest in Peace Jahmal Pryor

[Verse 3: Lil Bibby]
Uh, Let me talk my sh*t
Bands in my pocket so I walk like this
Just spent 80 grand when I bought my whip
Lou told me to lease it but I bought my sh*t
And I came in the game like LeBron James
First the money, and the fame, then the broads came
See your clique, fifty deep, but they all lame
Young n*gga stacking books like a card game
They like “How the f*ck is he a freshman?”
Young n*gga spitting better than the veterans
I need the cover, why the f*ck I gotta sit with them?
The whole world know these words ain't compared to him
Uh, yeah the kid’s so c*cky, feeling like Ali
n*ggas can’t stop me, jackers wanna rob me
Opps wanna pop me, that's why I keep a lil’ bro right beside me
I’m from the Chi, sh*t real in this motherf*cker
f*ck around, get killed in this motherf*cker
Paranoid, I can’t chill in this motherf*cker
Can’t leave without the steel in this motherf*cker
These n*ggas keep saying “Don’t trip”
Climbing to the top, I just hope I don’t slip
n*ggas sending threats and I never been a b*tch
So I’m steady buying guns, youngin feeling like tilt
Lil’ Bibby I’m the same old pimp
No more Ramen Noodles, just lobsters and shrimp
I could be in jail tryna talk through them vents
Or running from the cops, probably hopping a fence
But, I’m in the drop with the tints
Flow so sick it don’t make no sense
n*ggas be mad I don’t take no pics
Chain so froze I could take your b*tch
But I don’t even need ice though
And this that eighty-four mic flow
We don’t rap beef, my squad a little psycho
Plus these rap n*ggas suck like Lipo
I ain’t forgot about the old me
Straight off the block now I’m ballin’ like Kobe

[Verse 4: Troy Ave]
Troy Ave, with the classic feel
Bands be racking, major without a deal
I’m that n*gga, if you got eyes you could tell
You’re seeing me rise, you're seeing me with XX-L
Putting on for my city and I’m doing it well
So much style I should be down with The Stylistics as well
This like BIG and Jay, Troy Ave hit after
I represent the streets, I ain’t these weirdo rapper
Self-paid n*gga came from whipping the batter
Hit the bank they like “Who is this young stacker?”
HP, PSB, HE, double-L yes, oh baby, yeah, it’s me
Ho spillers, smooth skinner, dope dealer
Mad n*ggas be out in New York, my buzz iller
I’m an ill n*gga, Dungarees by Hilfiger
As a lil’ n*gga coming up, now I’m bigger
In the dope game, then these fraud n*ggas with rap names
I’m named after my block, Troy Ave mane
Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, still in this street thang
We’ll be at the Barclays, Nets vs. Heat game
Man, where these other n*ggas seats man?
Man, these seats ain’t cheap, man
These other n*ggas weak, man
Talking ‘bout they proud of me
Pay attention to my moves but I style for free
These bum n*gga styles ain’t no style to me
di*kriding never been transportation, B
Powder, Troy Ave biz, we reckless
New York City sh*t, uh huh

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