FGE Cypher, Pt. 9

[Verse 1: Talley of 300]
Yeah back at it like a post move
Yeah still giving niggas blues leaving no clue
Yeah I don't know what somebody told you
Yeah cause that's the only thing they know fool
Had mask and gloves like a cold blue
I go nut soul on a butter rim
Bars like a jungle gym
Heart hard but a fucking gem
Broken shards but with every trim
So I keep it together in extreme weather
Out in the rain when the thunder heard
Fighting pain then the summer turn
With a warrior spirit
Watch me score off my pivot
I'm sworn like a witness
A knight or a bishop
See I'm fair like a ticket
But play the hoodlum, I'm whispers
They'll be counting bodies like the Holocaust
Fire, fire, nigga Mazel Tov
Heroin flow, either they sleep or they nodding off
On that money like a watermark
Find a way to clock like time was lost
And if it's 10 to 9, ain't no time to talk
That mean I'm early bird, teach a lesson to 'em
Now it's time to chalk, lined 'em up but his posture off
Thinking you could run with me
Somebody must've been gassing you like your lungs was weak
Well I'm bout to cause a collapse and you gon' be underneath
Then I'll have a desert drawn like a map
Whenever they come for me
And only killers could run with me
Why you watching these videos
Say we cheerio, no ain't nothing sweet
See I get them hitters buzzed, they'll pull a sting like a bumblebee
See I'm from the dirt but I grew to see the green like a fucking tree
Watching the clock and taking my shot out the trap like a double team
Talley

[Verse 2: No Fatigue]
Ay, ay, ay, ay, FGE shit man, T-I-G-U-E
Ride low like a Caddy, found you and don't got your addy
It's too late, no calling your daddy
Took too many Ls, if you wanna see what it do
We taking souls like Scrappy
Niggas act tough that ain't you like a catfish
I'm about money these bitches come after
Fresh like Prince but I'm smooth on my Jazz shit
Broke Pokémon is how niggas get captured
Don't put in work just want clout like Alvin
I cannot quit never would throw the towel in
Smoother than Ace they be hating like Calvin
No Fatigue dropping look out for the album
I built myself from the bottom like houses
Remember sleeping on my aunty couches
Working, I'm working, these niggas be pouting
Close to the top like I'm climbing a mountain
Green on me no air on the line anymore
Cracking your bitch with my stick now she glowing
All in the head like a sore, green like she going
How you ain't know she was whoring
I'ma go back and forth, get around like a trip
Or like a snippet and get half of the clip
Leave him code red no alarm in this bitch
Give it to him first like a warrant and shit
They on the floor like a carpet
I'm running shit like a Sergeant
Stick in that metal like Spartan
So don't act funny like Martin
Blues on me, that's what I chase
You mad it's all on your face
Get over it like it's trace
Get money, it's not a race
I had to change my method man
But that was all for the cream
I been running through that paper like a Football team
Fuck with niggas thats gon' show up by my side like a screen
Feel like LeBron why these niggas always doubting the king
But like a sit-up I'm just tryna lift a torso
Oops, I mean torn soul
Feelin' like Meek, nigga lord knows
Never give up, I keep working like D. Rose
I make all them wolves timber
Got 'em peeping what he own
Squad

[Verse 3: Wuntayk Timmy]
Yea, yea, yea, ha-ha-ha, Clique Clan shit, FGE shit
You know what I'm rockin' nigga, Louisville stand up
(Wuntayk Timmy)
Okay, rappers I don't have to bite them
Pussy money, appetite slim
Ain't nobody rapping like him
I guess that's why don't no rappers like him
Please don't make me afterlife him
No one has a swagger like us
Let 'em hang, dragging my nuts
So much in the bag it might bust
Shoutout to my habitat, uh
Where I learned my habits at, uh
Learned to flip it, acrobat, uh
Lost and then I got it back, uh
Just tryna ball like Cracker Jack, uh
Could whip with both, I'm ambidex, uh
Could whip with both like ten and two, uh
Could whip with both like cabbage patch, uh
Hand in hand and back to back, uh
I deserve a platinum plaque, yuh
Grammy, Oscar, Emmy, niggas know it
On Granny and God and them, fuck awards
I really just wanna open up the doors for Louisville niggas
Y'all knew what it was
All of y'all can if I can get a buzz
But I'm tryna stay sober because I'm too fly
Need a layover, she came over and got a makeover
I said I ain't know you, she even brought your mixtape over
That shit was lighter than a chain-smoker
Chain rainbow and Crayola
I may quote her with some weight told her
With some great yoga, get your 4 and a baby
That's a hangover
Wuntayk, it's the takeover
Fire, niggas better take cover
The pole different, it's the eighth wonder
Left homes dripping, need a rain gutter
Leave the scene cleaner than a maid, butler
These clowns I know they up
But niggas 'bout to fall like it's late summer
And I'm on they heels like Shea butter
At heart I'm still a cocaine cutter
Like to whipping wheels, both same color
They popping off, I don't say much
I let the chopper talk, though it may stutter
Like d-d-d-die
Why you walking bitch, get in the car
Fuck 'em niggas, we'll get them tomorrow
Cause we got bags to get biz
Y'all already know I'm resting when I'm rich
Tayk, ha-ha, Clique Clan, FGE shit

[Verse 4: Arsonal]
Well you can't spell bars without putting that Ars in
Montana, I got you bruh, uh, look
Niggas telling lies, walking 'round like they real
Prolly never missed a meal, I'm Liam Neeson every Taken
I got a special set of skills, I'm Bo Jackson in the field
Ricky Bobby at the wheel, I'm Chicago with the Drill
Aristotle with the philosophies, Socrates
I'm keeping it real, facts
I see my future much clearer, facts
I see my future much clearer, facts
Niggas who talk to the cops, rats
But they see a star in the mirror, get it
Think about it, break it down, flip it 'round
And then read it again
Rats see a star in the mirror, these bars undefeated my friend
I don't believe in a pen, just give me some weed in a tin
These bullets'll eat at your skin
Whoever want beef I turn vegan my friend
I'll bring you the beef, make you eat it again
I shop high it Neimans me down
With you I see low and which means you a clown
Ten toes planted, both feet on the ground
My teachers from high school believe in me now
None of my packs get fumbled
You don't belong here, Rapunzel
You fleeing the scene, import your dog hair
The struggle is gon' take a vet to plug you
Now say it with your chest cause none of my raps is mumbled
Then all of my straps is double my team
It's loyal and humble, when all got arms on they shoulders
We'd like you to join in this huddle
Yeah, the king of battle rap and bar god
Back to back is action packed
I'm here, appreciate all of my presence
I'm very gifted, how ironic I rap
I'm patriotic with the strap
So iconic in the trap
Turn that powder into crack
Make it lock and bring it back
Fiends start knocking when they scratch
No designer on my back, I'm rocking my own shit
Traveling got me homesick, hope Oprah don't sue me
But just like her network I was out there doing my own shit
Groupie bitches sober, sucking dick way before them Patrón sips
Slavery dead but you the nigga that I'm gon' get, nigga

[Verse 5: Montana of 300]
CP9 man, you already know what the fuck it is man, Rap God, FGE shit man
Views From The General's Helmet, whew whew
I be in my zone, move around me like some cones
Or my AK spitting faster than the Thuggish Ruggish Bone
Caught an opp in traffic yeah you know I had the chrome
Smoked them through the glass, I ain't talking 'bout a bong
They say that nigga cold like he be with Tommy Strawn
I be with Khaleesi spitting fire, Game of Thrones
No thief but that steel in my shirt like a booster
The clip up in my .40 cal longer than Kuzma
Smoke his whole circle like they passing 'round a hookah
Kill his homies first and make him watch like a jeweler
You wanna link then just slide up
No kidding, I'ma take him to school, no bus driver
AR to his chest, he ain't even a Ruff Rider
Them shots'll take his will like his friend was a drunk driver
Picture me at yo home mask and glove, no umpire
Send a whole mag to your crib, no subscriber
Middle fingers to fussin'
Hell yeah we could get it bussin'
I'ma come out cracking tops like Steve Austin, no Budweiser
I really pops, I don't play house
When I bump into him, watch 'em break out
Watch his takeoff turn into takeout
Killers out back, no Steakhouse, whew
I stay with a strap or two
Bro ‘nem got cannons too
All of us shoot like a camera crew
If dude ‘nem get tough
I'ma shoot this bitch up like I ain't got nobody to pass it to
Rap God on the track and God watching my back
When the Devil see me, bitch I give him chills
I'm so cold I can make any summer end
Oh I guess they thought it was December still
Old haters mad cause I'm winning still
Been a hustler for mine I been in the field
Had a gun in my lap and had pounds in the back
Right next to the pampers and the Enfamil
Used to think that the only way we could win
Is to ball, or sell drugs, or to get a deal
Had me thinking that God had a favourite colour
Tell me what's a white lie to an Emmett Till