Sensi Cypher

[Intro: Ren Thomas]
Check, ha

[Verse 1: Ren Thomas]
I smack a rapper backwards for talk like they carry axes
A bastard on tabs of acid, I'm graphic trashin' a classic
My rite of passage is glasses of whiskey twisted pass it
I'm savage, far from the average, y'all suck, we masters of madness
I spike the punch bowl left the party in league
Have you crying over your dogs like Marley and Me
Walk to the ring with a skull in my palm like Papa Shango
Gorilla good with the hands like Amy in Congo
A Christ diss to me is like believing in dog
When you just a bitch that won't listen like even to God
And I'm eatin' you starvin', Vanilla Icе 'em over the banistеr
I catch 'em while they shittin' like I'm Tyrion Lannister
If I ain't seein' money while my eyes green, y'all Visine
We catch 'em slippin', y'all get stuck like deers in the high beams
Tell these hoes sissy store while I'm bustin' a nut
If DJ's don't play this shit, then we fuckin' 'em up, Ren

[Verse 2: Ghetto MC]
Six syllable spitter (Got a half) sinner
Scriptin' symbols while I'm sittin' on the shitter (Hahaha)
Spliff spark (Uh-huh), the shit stunks (Yeah)
It's no secret I surely sing sonnets (Ha)
That's a series of S's, no offense (Ha)
Seriously starving, no ends (Ha)
Scarcely social, no friends (Ha)
Several strands of Sativa, no stems (Uh-uh)
Sticks for the suckers (Yeah), seeds for the growing (Uh-huh)
Big beautiful buds in the blunts that I'm blowing
Sensi Starr everything niggas be knowing
Trade pound for life so you know what I'm holding (Uh-huh)
Brandishing, my braggadocious barking is breath-taking (It is)
How I'm balancing the bars and I've barely begun my brilliance is bar none
If I breathe on your beat, you've been blessed with a BAR gun (Huh)

[Verse 3: Burke the Jurke]
Yeah, stop the drama 'fore I squash you, you are not a soldier (No)
Pop a cop in an iron shoulder to drop a poser (Ah-ah)
All you smell is dead decomposin' body odor
Accidentally shot your noggin like I'm John Travolta
Pulp Fiction the warmest of problem solver
Rockin' loafers, these rappers sleepin' on me, get 'em a pot of Folgers
Cockroaches flying over Nagasaki vultures
Pop radio imposters cock block the culture
I gotta get a lot of dollars and a lot of doja
Pop my collar karate chop a hip-hop promoter
Constant motor, everything that I drop is vulgar
A groupie floozy wanna do me then I gotta choke her
She just swallowed a cobra in the side of mi coma
The Don Dada got a poker and I shock the children
Knock before the 'poster overlock I rode the Rock 'n' Roller
I'm not a solo opp, I have a vodka soda
You wanna push my buttons like an Xbox controller?
Take the Glock from the holster, body over

[Verse 4: Maine da Medicine]
Half black, half Latino
Sippin' ice tea in the garden just like Nino
Am I my brother's keeper? Hell yeah, look at the Eagle
Leave you a man apart like Vin Diesel
Blind to the hate, blind to the fake
Take boys to school like Q with the blank face
I'm a top dog, they want beef, I raise the stakes
I'm sittin' with the eighths and my bees scrapin' my plate
Puttin' in work, ain't fuckin with' the words
Even my ad-libs got 'em callin' me a jerk
But the flow got 'em screamin' out here like red alert
I'm nice with the pen, I MC from the Ghetto
With a leaf on my shirt like I'm rapping with Ren
Maine and Suspect back at it again
Cause ruckus when I rock, let the madness begin
(Cause ruckus when I rock, let the madness begin)

[Verse 5: Adlib]
Party crashin', broad ass in it
Live travelin' but I ain't move legs (No)
Maybe just a twitch (Ah), rhyme a written trick (Hey)
Nipple pinch your bitch, I'm fingering her clit (Ah)
All we like to be is batshit (Batshit)
Dance dirty, I ain't Patrick (It's crazy)
Hat trick boy, three times dope (Uh-huh)
Sure shot my whole life under a scope (Come on)
Gutter East Coast, broccoli and cheddar (You know)
Whatever, whenever
Stone cold leave a peephole in your sweater
I'm in that low peacoat cold is ever Sensi every better
Sour or bitter, I'm lightin' the best (Uh-huh)
Apeshit caveman, cave in your chest
I'm not like the rest, ain't no rest for the wicked
I can't dig it 'less I'm talkin' to bitches

[Verse 6: Suspect]
Sus, the Ghetto MC lining shots at the bar
Jack D and two blunts got my mind state on Mars
My entourage be Starr, only Sensi in the jar
Cross the border and I'm angry that I'm setting it off
Keep that piff in the Dutch, yeah, I brought it across
Like good Canadian kush, no pebbles or strong
Everything is everything 'til you livin' like a refugee
Aiming at the goal, cross lines like a referee
Rhymes hit like a missile, pack dimes by the fistful
Tryna get out these streets, grip the pen, not a pistol
TDot to New Jersey and the ghetto of birds
Hit Philly for some herb, blow the clouds of purp
Keep the fuschia in a herb and I create that pocket
Nonstop shot blocker tatted up like Dennis Rodman
Please, I brush you off like Jay did
Can't go out bitch like Ye did, that's some fake shit