CyHi The Prynce Freestyle | LA Leakers Freestyle #014

[Verse]
Just off my freestyle, they put me in they top 5
This that flow that make you come to grips with Pac dying
Shots fired like they heard another job’s hiring
Bespoke when you speak cause I got mob ties
I can rap every song on my hard drive and look in God’s eyes
I do this shit for all the hustlers taking them car rides (huh)
My archives is full of dark vibes
Boy, your shit don’t get no burn, you peroxide
I grew up 'round so many crips it make you C-sick
I never wanted to be involved in this street shit
But peep this – kingpin of this weed shit
Make a 5 dollar bag look like a dime – that’s a Freaknik (huh)
I’m Calabasasin in the Appalachians
Flew the bitch from Tallahassee, then I asked what's cracking
Shawty, I don’t have compassion – in an hour, smashing
Never hit it raw – nigga, I be shower capping
Ain't no squares in my table – can’t even have a napkin
I can tell by your character that you cowards acting
Cause your flow is artificial and my art official
Without a pistol, man I heard you niggas soft as tissue
And if you looking for me boy, I pray that God is with you
Scope on this AR when I spray y’all – ain't that hard to hit you
Then I leave you out to dry – just like your father did you
The truth hurts a little bit like when the barber nicked you (huh)
I seen more circles than the car at Bristol
Keep a double XL mag but I got larger issues
Like outta all 11 of us on the Freshman cover
They had to save the best for last, but I respect the brothers
If it ain't a dum-dum at the bank, I don’t really mess with suckers
I’m so dope, you need Vaseline and extra mustard
Red Stop prostitute – I’m in bed with truckers
And the best of hustlers, but that white girl, I never touched her
Some migos kidnapped my partner and left him dead in Tucker
I couldn’t cry cause squeezing toast was his bread and butter (huh)
But that come with the territory (huh)
Keep a steel reserved – that mean we carry 40’s
But nowadays I pay for hits – I peel like Berry Gordy
My alibi like Malachai – I got a better story
School of hard knocks, but my shit was preparatory
Smoking all this kush is fucking up my respiratory (huh)
I had more whips than Denzel in Glory
I don’t know a rapper out who can out metaphor me (facts)
Yeah, haters wish the devil for me
Pac called me yesterday and told me there’s a heaven for me
Cyhi Power, I’m popping like fried flour
I told y’all I was gonna rain – expect light showers (huh)
I like doubters, make sure that my mic’s louder
Than my bitch when she scream when I’m taking this pipe out her (huh)
White powder turn us to night prowlers
And kids who stick up niggas like Alfalfa
I don’t get my energy from 5 Hours
Romeo, don’t catch a Bullethead from Mr. Hightower
And all my cars are souped up – I like chowder
Givenchy zippers – I paid a thousand for my trousers
Wowser
You can’t name a nigga doper but your 2 cents can’t even go on my penny loafers
Just got a text from your bitch, says Cyhi come bend me over
She wanna fuck Prince Akeem but I still bring the semi over (huh)
Cause that can be the setup – if you talking bout bread, then it’s gotta be Panera
From the deserts of Sahara, to Coachella, I’m the Edgar Allen Poe of this era
Job and Moses mixed together, whoa...
Trying to hold this shit together