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funk volume - teambackpack cypher 3 lyrics

[verse 1: hopsin]
save yourself and make way for h-ll, i’m leaving haters dealt
chopped up and laid across a conveyor belt
got some febreze to take away the smell
sick of my curious neighbours
coming up to my front door to ring the bell
being famous ruined all of my plans
should have thought in advance
when i’m outside, i’m a target for fans
now i gotta walk through the mall with a mask
talk to your man just like i got a stick caught up my -ss
you see i no longer have a life
just a nasty appet-te
searchin’ p-rnographic sites
lookin’ up hermaphrodites
filthy when i grab the mic
look at all this madness
i bring to these other mc’s
ye, it’s a tragic site
strap you in the car, hit the gas to the max
hit it straight into a wall
jump out last minute so you crash in it
cops will find your body and your wallet
with no cash in it
ye, i’m that wicked, f-ck a nice guy
your -ss trippin’
the next rapper to tell me i’m corny’s gonna die glorious
or spun in a 540 off of five stories
and splat in a lot full of by-standers
and that’s gon’ happen to anybody
who ain’t living by my standards
i’m the magnificent black militant rap villain
my craft’s diligent so these cats mimic it
cash is mad long like the shaft that i smash women with
and i was half asleep in my pad when my -ss scribbled this
ye, funk volume

[verse 2: jarren benton]
throw a load of laundry in this b-tch
hey yo, i snort the same ‘caine as whitney
i cut open my skull and told the doc
“b-tch, this brain don’t fit me”
you wonder why a n-gga’s so deranged and empty
sharpen a toothbrush, stick the blade through your kidney
and they be like
“hopsin, why the h-ll is he on funk volume?”
yeah i get it, eat a d-ck b-tch, f-ck all you
while you was talking sh-t on that laptop
we were selling out shows and stackin’ up mad gwop
funk volume, n-gga, got the game on padlock
you was raped by your uncle and mad cause your dad watched
now all he do is hide behind the mouse
the only time he leave his house
to put d-ck inside his mouth
b-tch, you should practice more suicide
your life’s pathetic, do us all a favor dude and die
n-gga, no one believes you
you should k!ll your mom cause she’s the dumb b-tch that conceived you
uh, and real n-gga’s don’t relate to you
when i get to heaven i’m slapping god for creatin’ you
when i go to h-ll i’m k!lling satan for waitin’ for you
you incapable, to take it to where i take it, dude
and life’s great, b-tch, i’m feeling fine
your girl’s backstage giving us the ill mind
hooray for the tough guy on twitter
you so g-y you sh-t condoms and ej-cul-te glitter
and f-ckin’ with my clique, dog, is danger
numb my right arm and i give myself a stranger
you can hate, but it’s bad for your health
here, take the spiked bat, b-tch, f-ck yourself
b-tch

[verse 3: dizzy wright]
uh, i heard a hater calling me a liar
i took him to the laundromat and shoved ’em in a dryer
anybody steppin’ to us steppin’ straight into a fire
it’s that wu-tang thirty-six chambers sh-t, partner
twenty-one and active, one year, two tours
only 702 rapper that ever made it this far
but this for the doors that i opened up for vegas
i’m penetrating, history in the making
you like denzel in action, you probably a good guy
but we only see you actin’
i see the laziness and i can sense the lack of p-ssion
i’m confident cause i was always comfortable with practice
lemme get at ’em, grab a rapper by his throat
he make a dis, i kick his f-cking adams apple down his throat
he thought it was a joke
clowns hide behind posts until we tied ’em to the boat
and dragged his -ss across the coast
now i done spoken my approach a little different
he seen hop’ dissin so he figured he could get it
but it’s hard to be a rapper when you don’t fit the descriptions
so you tried to be a target and only became a victim
n-gga

[verse 4: swizzz]
look, went on a nation wide tour now i’m back in the west
actin’ a mess, cougar huntin’, getting moms to undress
showing their br–sts, soaking wet, begging me to have s-x
while daughters doing the same thing, flashin’ her chest
it’s a family affair, losing my sanity here
tryna cope liquored up, mixin’ the dark and the clear
i’m gettin’ buzzed like a sub reading vanity fair
debate getting a s-x change pretending i care
but i should but, f-ck, i’m trying to b-tt f-ck
a tranny and lucked up or get my nuts sucked
from the back, at a bar in a bathroom stall
while mr. benton got the gopro directing it all
gimme a call if you wanna chat
i’m in the lab, breaking bad, cooking mounds of crack
swizzzle wright, n-gga
missed the first two but got another strike, n-gga
three z’s, grab a sleeping bag, goodnight n-ggas

- funk volume lyrics

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