Cyne - Stomping Ground lyrics

[Intro: Sample from [?]] Come on, everybody put your hands together. Alright [Verse 1: Akin Yai] Sort of like Marvin with the brightest soul. I pack a hydro bowl My life's no stranger to sin, but I'm a righteous poet Part of the globe know it, other half is sleeping on it Me lyrical king. I'll spill for my next opponent They better step up on it. Mic in hand, I'm never tonic Cats want to brag about wealth but now they're scared to flaunt it We got that real sh**—no gimmick, genuine That true-school hip hop ‘cause y'all too feminine Chauvinist to abstract, I'll backslap your wack act Back to the future we go as we unroll the scrolls Sent many years ago by the you-know The true MC extraordinaire, mic avenger. We're here Little tipsy off the Grey Goose and drop of Belvedere—nah I'm just playing. I rarely do liquor I'm into sipping Red Stripe or any malt liquor Take a closer look and you find that CYNE Got a lot of rhymes, lyrics, sling no gimmicks MCs, they go plead. Yo, they so timid CYNE, we not borderline—we pros in it Our soul's in it. Plus, we got foes grinning While damn most spitting, our prose infinite We rude boy rap soldiers with no limit Now I must be entirely too f**ing nice That's my right-hand man—Clyde Graham be the Cise [Verse 2: Cise Star] I got the game on lock so hard, n***as, they can't move I float through notes while I cope, stole it and choke you I'm so illness, throw up this sh** in a sentence Making heads 360 when I sit down to finish Master to the teachers, skipped levels from an apprentice It's risky business—motherf**ers f**ing with realness I just k**ed it. The microphone just sputtered The speaker just uttered that this one sick motherf**er (Alright) I'm so on point, turntable needles are jealous Half-a**es n***as make up my burger, forgot no lettuce Shook n***as are off-the-Richter, taking my picture So abrasive, soft n***as are getting blisters Leave you in shambles. Your silly crew manhandled So goddamn you. The elephant logo will stamp you You can't find me—I'm a weapon of ma** destruction Never was in Iraq—I'm right here, you motherf**er [Verse 3: Akin Yai] I'm like Jason Bourne, armed with a microphone, strutting Globetrotter mic a**a**in—can't tell me nothing I speak different languages. You saying, “Can't we just All get along?” You're dead wrong ‘cause I'm Notorious B.I.G For making headlines whenever I sketch rhymes East to the Westerners fear. They all respect. I'm Engaged in a lyrical war, Johnny Blazing This Man got a Method. Your clan is half-amazing Magnificent. That's what I am and ladies love this Brown-skinned n***a. Might make your lady blush like I got a man like Kate, but she ain't positive If she's feeling you or Akin—that's so prerogative So don't be cruel now. I murder with the ink and Every little step, I take this n***a place So I must be entirely too f**ing nice You could tell how I write, you could tell how they fight Man, I must be entirely too f**ing nice You could tell how I write, you could tell how they fight [Outro: Sample from El-P on Company Flow's "Blind"] I must be entirely too f**ing nice