Buda - Series 12 lyrics

[Verse 1: John Depp] Too many guns on the streets too many cops for that/ too many n*ggas got beef nobody stopping that/ too many clubs instead of schools these grown n*ggas stupid/ too many fake rappers is getting in the way of my music/ too many tuff guys too many two bottles of henny/,too many bullets I just got to load up in the semi /too many times ain't enough I just gotta keep going/ too many labels is looking without even knowing/ too many times I made a hit I got a f**ing list/too many pay me attention but they don't pay me sh**/ too many times I thank god a got more sh**/too many rappers hear this sh** then get nourish/ but when that murder come u better run n*gga/ and u could still get body f** if your gun wit ya/ and r.i.p to Nu Nu that's my young n*gga/ and Brooklyn go hard till they up with ya'! [Producer Grandz speaks on cipher] Initially, we started out with this plugin called Alchemy. We got a whole bunch of sounds for it and presets. That one preset just stood out and just started flipping it. Once we got the preset and sounds, we added the drums [Verse 2: Chris Rivers] Enter the alpha wolf, get out the booth/ your mama told me straight up, my son cannot amount to you/ father too, little sister, brother, and your aunty too/ your dog, showed up right to my house like "I'ma follow you!"/ true sh**, spitting similar to ?/ always on my hustle, learned from ? that's the blueprint/ movement, similar to cheetahs, falcons, eagles too/ learned from Styles, my pops, and Em- dare I say Knievel too/ daredevil foolishness, punch your f**ing cords split/slap the sh** out ya', hold you down and watch the doodle drip/ vividness, lyrics hitting harder than a scissor kick/ and your girl a thot, she a bird that smell like pigeon dick/ figure Chris the wickedest, would always say some crazy sh*t/ not a thug, but I don't think I gotta be to break ya' ribs/ and shatter jaws, I ain't violent but I'm mad at y'all/ f**ing with a bull, you better hope that you're a matador/ ? slap a slacker thoughts out 'em/ make 'em ? conscious/ like he's Adderall poppin'/ bunch a bag-a-bons ? cause they f*cking with the dragon God/ ? watch how I be mobile like a Macintosh/ back and forth, I slay my pray/ Vader train for pain today/ watch the page I blaze, my sk**s get sharper like it's razor blades/ pave the way, and watch the young dragon own this sh**/ legendary blood, mother f**er I'm supposed to win! [Producer Grandz speaks on cipher] Yea, there's an 808. Another thing, we had to stack the drums a lot. The kicks are like three different kicks, the snares are like three different snares. Mesh them all together, EQ them, compress them, and just have them knock as much as possible [Verse 3: Styles P] A bong hit and a trippy stick/ automatic hand gun, probably holding a 50 clip/ Rivers that's my young boy, cut from his father's cloth/ you talking to alpha wolf, mastered in the art of war/ you don't want beef, you will never sleep, you will never eat, bullets hit your teeth, probably knock the ? off/ dear father lord I'd rather die a martyr than a coward, so I show these boys power when I ?/ or spark an 8, or melt the 12, when I spit a 16, yea you felt the hell/ if you in the jungle, you stay dominate/ or you get you a fixer like Ray Donovan/ ? wagon, burgundy paint, we look prominent/ I bust lines, shooters and hustlers in my conglomerate/ if you ain't get it, try to figure it out/ I got clout, but I still pull the trigger quick/ D Block!