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bizzle - kick in the door cypher lyrics

(verse: datin)
forget a punchline, these lines pack a punch
and they hit like a stiff jab to the jaw
when i spit rappers they’ll call up the dispatchers
like man down, send an ambulance now
the truth hurts and it feel just like an avalanche plow through yo speakers, huh
with the spirit in me, i spit fire, like an aerosol camp bein’ sprayed at a lit lighter
brain washed hands give you thumbs up like hitchhikers
i think you wackin’ full of cr-p, like a kid’s diapers
i propose art like mozart, with metaphors so deep
too catch them you’ll have to use sonar
and go hard as a crowbar, my whole squad, a bow guard
the army is satan with no prowl
uh, now homie, you know who i’m down with
gold over money and yo megastyle wild clicker
these artists hide the truth from you, so we here to spill the beans
like a cleanup on isle six
these dudes buggin’, where’s the black flag?
they garbage, go get the trashbags
even tho i flow grimmey as a backstab
i represent somethin’ greater than me
i’m puttin’ god over that cash
hashtag, you rat trash, i’ll make like mike tyson
i hit you, you fall back fast, sucka

(verse 2: b-mps inf)
by nature, i’m kinda hostile to the gospel that’s written
that make me real sloppy like the body condition
the bigger pun, then i run from the god that has risen
man, i bounce like ricky scratchin’ lottery tickets
i run into the arms of the one that is still my joy
but will i fight a lot? nah, illinois
christ the god, it’s a miracle i’m still employed
when i fought like the wars of jericko were still a choice
yeah, yo, i gotta do betta
hell’s hotter than rockin’ two sweaters while in cancun’s weather
when i’m out of line, like rude gestures
fall and sin? man, you see the sinner fold, hugh heffner
that’s a ridiculous statement, i’m ready to rumble like buffle when he gets in em cages
so tell the devil to bring it on
when i’m the sixteen gone i’m gon’ be higher than ching ching chong with a freakin’ bong
yo

(verse 3: selah the corner)
i been in this game for years
i was an animal before that
sound the same, mixed with hannibal before rap
by my side with the foreign rap
holdin’ up a convent while i unbuckle an unbroad strap
i ain’t glorifyin’ nothin’, homie, fall back
i just want the war back, show me where the sword at
that cocaine, yeah, we fought that, so i rap with the blacks
sittin’ with white keys, where the chords at?
i’m tired on these cono rappers, they got the green movin’ like the pack is
but when the beef and the heat walk, all of that, the reverse
dawgs turn to rats when ya lookin’ at em backwards
get it? stars, rats, backwards, most of these rappers who claim that they clap – actors
and doin’ they rhyme numbers but they non-factors
and crackin’ all in the sight of these youth hackers
they don’t know the way that my god will make
that bread of life what my god will bake
so any now and then surround it, i accommodate
like em fast winds all around like a fan when it isolate
return of the king, i’m preparin’ em
[?] the adversary, i’mma come and put the fair in em
slashin’ and tearin’ em
[?] on, got my hoodie on way before they started shootin’ us for wearin’ em

(verse 4: bizzle)
bizzle, uh, homie, i was born for the war
cut my own umbilical chord with a sword
could of sworn i’d be 24 and no more
who’d figure biz’ would be on the tour for the lord?
not me! i could have been lost and off in a coffin
and tossed behind bars with rick ross as a warden
instead, i walk with a cross on me
and often i fall down
but in light of it all, god offered a pardon
some of y’all won’t feel this rap here
if it makes you feel better, i’m dealin’ crack
k!llin’ my own, lettin’ that semi clap
till traevon dies, that’s when i grab the hoodie and act like i give a cr-p
how ill is that? do cats really rap like trickin’ on christmas?
niggaes dealin’ crack, fam, you eva seen how rock make a person act?
coppin’ kicks for the whole block and reversin’ that?
and no, they ain’t beef when i see em
but i stand on my words when i meet em
you so brainwashed, a rapper could be in jail
for raping a little girl, and you throw a shirt on that say ‘free em’
they want dope? i od em, you want the hope? consult jesus
you don’t want him? keep frontin’, you gon’ need him
and yep, i’m a christian, but you touch my women
and kids, then you can trust you gon’ meet him
this ain’t a thug talkin’, this love talkin’
the beats, the plate, the bars and my love offering
the game wicked, i’m done watchin’
i lyrically body em all and drop hip-hop off in one coffin
i know the truth hurt, so it’s hard to listen when the bars ain’t about pricks
or the cars i’m whippin’
k!llin’ niggas and d-gg-n’ women
you probably so used to the word b*tch, it sound funny when i call em women
i bet they wanna k!ll me, and if not, they finna
here to expose every lie they give ya
so whether i make friends or not, make ends or flop
i’mma go straight in, every chip, and the curve changes the block
so i keep fightin’, and no, i’m not jesus
i’m just a repentin’ sinner with a goal to be like him bizzle

- bizzle lyrics

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