Lyrics XXL – XXL Freshmen 2012 Cypher – Part 2
Text:
Kid Ink:
Act like you ain’t heard
Know I stay mad fly like Angry Birds
Kid Ink I’m a beast, dog, heard me?
Draped up, fronting for my lateness, spit that
Raw no latex, all you niggas safe sex
West side alumni, Batgang is what I rep
Shake em’ up and watch em’ dissappear like an Etch A Sketch
Yeah I’m the truth, you the one that she lied to
Probably got your girl taking orders like a drive-thru
Stay so hot, ain’t nobody in my eye view
Blunt too fat, need a motherfucking lipo
Yeah only J’s are the ones on my feet
Concrete nigga, I came from the streets
«Mother may I?» «Yes Indeed.»
Got my weight up you see the freshman fifteen
Macklemore:
I’m from the city of Seattle, never been on that hat troop
Never played the guitar, never gotten tattoo
Unless you were a band or a singer in a flannel
Then the street wasn’t listening like the city was sound proof
This is for my outcasts, who live without mass
Thrift shop hustles who make it without cash
That can take a fat woman’s fur jacket out the trash
Can and make it look like something Gucci Mane has
My momma said to keep on shining
Stare the crowd in the face, never let ’em close their eyelids
It’s just that moment you show them you’re alive man
Give em’ who you are, why the hell are you hidin’?
I never play to be a runner up under they team
Nah, It’s a hustle cause when labels wanna fuck with us
We’ve build fan bases and turned fans to family
And for the world staring at that screen
We directing videos with our hearts on our… nah
Fuck it a sleeveless stitch that caters into seam strips
But a re-up and eat that beat I need that bass like a fiend
Cause, needle in my arm, plug it to the speakers
Heroin don, kick the habit, change dealers
Addict would probably buy Louis Vuitton if it was cheaper
But I realize that you can’t fill a void with a visa
I got a chain with a space for Jesus
I haven’t been to church and years, «Have you seen him?»
Remember the ideas, record beneath the heavens
‘Cause if I don’t write my story, then somebody else will tell it
Don Trip:
My baby mama told the judge I was a millionaire
I wish somebody told me, I’m still dealing squares
Victory yeah the feelings rare
But the trigger on a blicker thinner than a hair
And yo girlfriend wetter than a wishing well
But I’ll box with a bear before I hit her bare
Me in my kids in the mall trying’ to Build-a-Bear
And I can’t find a Lamborghini Power Wheel anywhere
Hi ho let’s lay, never-mind my name, just know I’m paid
And I gets head home girl I’m a fade
So fresh to death, I should bathe in a grave
So I never spent a day in the cage
I got old school shooters like Ray with the Trey
Fuck a freestyle, I get paid for what I say
Read my life story, getting paid is on every page
Iggy Azalea:
You know I’m Iggy, who you kidding? Go and tell your friends
I’m the chief and ya’ll just the Indians
Iggy is a big dog, chilling in the left lane
But ain’t got no leads, you chickens you ain’t free range
You bitches can’t see me, I aim high honey
Throw stones at your face, never bother with your body
Cut straight to the chase, new age vigilante
You ain’t taking shit from me, show my tick, if you want it
Baby what you looking at, is a villain so hungry
What you smelling on me is getting to the money
Going green, flexing on em, feeling like Gumby
Everybody on my dick, they wanna ride my pony
On my own dime, don’t need no one to sponsor me
Small bitches know, that you never eat lunch that’s free
Gassed up off it, don’t know the cost of it
It’s got my name on is, I comped it