Текст песни Freshman Cypher 2014 - XXL
Everybody
know
my
name
Ringin'
bell,
ringin'
bell
like
the
hallway
I
ain't
gotta
cap
in
no
motherfucking
rap
I
whip
out
and
air
it
out
broad
day
I
got
in
with
the
stick,
and
I'm
with
that
Break
a
nigga
in
half
like
a
Kit-Kat
I
been
tryna'
be
positive
mama
They
ain't
fuckin'
wit'
Jonathan,
mama
Who
you
know
put
they
motherfuckin'
self
on
the
map
And
now
they
ain't
on
nobody
shit
I
send
one
of
my
lil'
niggas,
come
take
you
off
You
get
laid
on
the
floor
by
a
jit
Got
pulled
over
with
55K
in
my
pocket
The
police
they
know
I'm
legit
The
police
they
know
I
got
sticks
They
be
worried
about
me,
they
know
I'ma
click
These
niggas
they
know
I'm
a
dawg,
I
ain't
worried
about
him
I
know
he
a
bitch
The
next
nigga
that
come
play
with
me
I'ma
send
him
to
go
ask
2Pac
for
a
pic
They
say
I'm
the
hottest
new
nigga
Go
check
the
thermometer,
that
nigga
sick
Nigga
must
have
a
fever
or
somethin'
Heard
he
was
born
up
on
Cleveland
or
somethin'
Let
me
give
you
a
history
lesson
We
moved
back
to
Charlotte,
1999
I
ain't
sayin
that
none
of
that
matter
If
somebody
touch
me,
then
somebody
die
Why
he
talkin'
so
calm
when
he
say
that?
How
you
make
him
rewind
and
replay
that?
Who
you
know
get
a
fade
once
a
week
And
they
try
make
it
wave,
fuck
a
motherfuckin'
wave-cap
Everytime
that
the
DJ
play
Suge
Niggas
throw
up
they
arm
like
a
motherfuckin'
racetrack
Everytime
that
my
babygirl
see
me,
she
run
And
say
"Daddy",
I
love
when
she
say
that
Everytime
I
hit
one
of
my
moves,
all
the
bitches
go
crazy
They
like
how
I
do
that
I
keep
one
in
the
head,
if
I
don't
let
off
first
I'ma
dive
to
the
side
when
I
shoot
back
Yeah,
I'm
comin'
like
Blade
in
this
bitch
Fuck
around,
and
walked
down
in
a
trenchcoat
They
gon'
have
to
put
me
with
the
greats
Wanna
fuck
with
me,
she
gotta
wait
Only
yacht,
would
mean
me
and
the
kids
There's
four
of
us,
we're
on
the
sea
eatin'
steak
I
ain't
goin'
ooh-ooh
on
a
bitch
I
ain't
goin
out
sad
'bout
no
hoe,
I'm
a
pimp
He
keep
bumpin'
his
motherfuckin'
gun
We
gon
put
his
ass
up
like
a
motherfuckin'
blimp
Like
to
talk
on
the
pillow
wit'
hoes'
that's
gon'
get
him
Exposed,
he
a
muhfuckin
simp
You
know
he
keep
that
thang
on
him
baby
Quit
askin'
him
why
that
boy
walk
with
a
limp
I
'on't
care
bout
this
motherfuckin'
chain
But
I
still
bust
your
motherfuckin'
brain
Just
got
head
on
a
motherfucking
plane
Ain't
no
cap
in
my
rap,
I'm
the
truth
And
then
fuckin'
yo'
hoe
from
the
back
I
knew
hoe
for
a
day,
she
won't
ghost,
she
the
swoup
And
these
niggas
ain't
livin
like
this,
why
he
talkin'
so
gangsta?
Your
boy,
he
a
fluke
They
know
Baby
gon'
blow,
he
a
flute
They
know
Baby
gon'
blow,
he
the
bomb
They
know
Baby
was
just
in
Miami
Now
he
in
LA,
nigga
think
he
LeBron
They
know
Baby
go
baby
on
baby
But
five
years
ago,
niggas
say
he
was
John
I
touch
down
at
the
front
of
the
plane
And
the
driver
come
pick
up
my
Louis
Vuitton
While
he
drive
me
around,
I
be
blowin'
that
pressure
I'm
chillin'
backseat
with
the
iron
![XXL - Freshman Cypher 2014](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/c/r/0/a/1mh0w3a0rc.jpg)
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