cypha session (underground airplay) - echō unltd. lyrics
echō unltd. ft. cella dwellas, kazo, chaunce lover, trix galore, nugget the phantom, da bush babees, and doug e. fresh – “cypha session (underground airplay)”
[emcee(s): phantasm, u.g., kazo, chaunce lover, trix galore, nugget the phantom, babe-b-face kaos (aka lee majors), mr. man (aka mr. khaliyl), y-tee, and doug e. fresh]
[producer(s): [?]]
[verse 1: phantasm (of the cella dwellas)]
as i grab
my head and zone and kick my heels three times
i wish i was home as i roam around the room
when i meditate, i can obliviate the state
feed off your skin and dance ‘til your bones break
my level plus-ten, in a stretch within, have
the power of ten men like the thing ben grimm
movements of the hand as i call, ten command-
-ments’ll darken your world like tints
the lunatic, i’m losing this. the mic, i’m brui-
-sing it, then, like the hovercraft, i just cruise on it
n-ggas can’t understand i’m not from this land
i get my power from the sun of these like biiiiird-
-man! not your average joe and not your average g.i
many want to be i, and now i see why
‘cause when i was young, i broke toys and popped balloons
i guess that’s why that you can call me looney toons
[verse 2: u.g. (of the cella dwellas)]
up in the
tight bush, i push sk!ll that k!ll his mother
word to mother, i drop the whoops like super mario, but rest on
fee-fi-‘phoria, arachno’
the human spider flies like bison from street fighter with my
mystical, diabolical, hypnotical
style i rocks when my gland is [?]
[?] i’m unorthodox, i’m sly like
a fox, you jump up like, uh, stocks. must i get
chopped? when they’re hairy, i get scary
like hitler, leaving question marks like the riddler
so don’t step up to me if your rhymes are funny
gave up on the uptown comedy, comedy, comedy
[verse 3: kazo]
well, uh
pardon me, sorry to interrupt, but i’m
gripping rap and smacking up all the sl-ts, then
freak the freestyle and still get paid
your sh-t’s so played like brut by fabergé
can’t gate—no, wait, tell your girl to parlay because
i’m suave bolo like han solo, i’m
a star at war. what you? a chewbacca
your girl’s chick was heavy, but, yeah, i still knocked her
boot, was real cute, but [?] hurts
a black-and-green snakeskin without the spurs
so can i kick it? did you get the ticket
to see me flow? fast or slow ‘cause i do it wickedly
like ali. you say, “golly
he floats like a b-tterfly, stings like a bee,” these
shot in your b-tt, but you’ll never learn
how many times will it take for you to get burnt to see
i scorch ya? i hold the torch in whatever hand
rocking with my mans, rocking for the fans that
scream my name—it’s all the same wherever i go
it’s still kazo—you better act like you know
[verse 4: chaunce lover]
i’m
slim, trill with the folks of a thousand men
this paper mate great’s a heavyweight with pens. when
i think through ink, emcees lay dead and stink. my
figure flows, stings the show plus the kitchen sink. what’s
the matter? you can’t hang with the mad hatter
lover take a loss? please k!ll that chitchatter
i’m better than a harlem rent and sn-tching up
cheese with no problem ‘cause i’m smooth like that
my man with the gat got my back, so duck. you better
get prepared because i’m lyrically buff. they call me
lover, my first name’s chauncy, not chunky
you were bucking flunky on my meat like a monkey
your girl wants me ‘cause i’m a s-x symbol, and
i still eat emcees like i eats my vegetables
healthy, not wealthy, yet [?], they said
a penny for my thoughts—money, bet i’m gonna be rich
[verse 5: trix galore]
well, you
should chill with my squad by the bar and kilimanja-
-ro. catching hoes never slow, but [?]
rastafari, i’m [?] like a
great spot, got a good eye to see who’s watching all my
fly cheese, so please, i got umpteen monies. if you
need one, take one. as-salaam-alaik-m to the
next cheese, rhythm then i’ll slit like split peas
disease ain’t catching on the nose ‘cause i use these
trojans, re-up on stacks like [?]
[?] i’d rather protection than infection to me
i smoke more smoke than the smoke in a smoke convention
what did i forget? oh yeah, let me mention that
i can [?] wreck at any sec
collect large respect as i break out for medical
check, club, scrub, rub-a-dub on your girl’s
mug, left cement for her friend to replace. uh huh
that i promise, but promises was meant to be
broken—that’s why y’all n-ggas get heartbroken
surprise, open your eyes. i know you can’t see
the milky substance got mixed with your hairspray
like scarface said, f-ck with me, that means you’re f-cking with
the best. n-gga, next
[verse 6: nugget the phantom]
uh
good god, how are you? the phantom is back on the prowl
how you like me now? if you flex, i gets foul
cool and all, hotshots, you get no props
to blowing up spots, the lyrical fort knox
with blocks of gold bombs—ain’t no future in fronting
you listen to the man like my name was [?]
and try to dissect the lyrics when i kick ‘em
i get you open like sores on an aids victim, got
tricks up my sleeve like inspector gadget, your bomb
ring the alarm, bring the drama—we gots to have it
you riffed, i dissed you. don’t sweat the fifth, duke
and “bo-bo-bo” is the sound of my pistol
drama, money, envy. who are the
r&b new kids on the block? boyz ii men, kid
[?] f-ck [?]
and when it come to hip hop, the nugget is the man, yo
i guess i gotta make a bullsh-t tune like, “all i wanna
do is zoom-a-zoom-zoom-zoom in the poon-poon”
k!ll the poetic cr-p—money, i pull it
and when it come to money, this super cat rule sh-t
i’m known through the world as the original rude boy
and shooting down puff is a thing that i enjoy
you can’t break my back—it’s too strong, hon. remember this:
nugget got a big, stiff, black, hard, long one
the leader of the pack, yo, a maniac wacko
n-ggas coming to face? i light ‘em up like tobacco
nugget is the mack—come and see me. [?]
1-0, swing like barrington levy
i felt i had to come on a song and drop my product
and blast the n-ggas on mainframe and blow the spot up
i got the whole world in my hands, so now i’m gonna
step to the left and p-ss it right to my right
[verse 7: babe-b-face kaos (aka lee majors) [of da bush babees]]
[?]
cars, breaker, breaker, one dilating your bum
goodness, flip the fat rap like shanaynay
da bush babees’ batman don’t sleep like that fat man
‘cause i kick slaves like they kick kicks that hit
so watch as i get biz or you’ll get packed like rosaries
watch as i roast emcees, causing catastrophes
“so come on down,” my name is bob barker
but if the price is right, i’ll [?] like [?]
i could be a hero while [?]
can i flip the script from fridays [?]
i pound ya and leave your balance [?]
to f-ck with me, y’all need a bodyguard like whitney houston
y’all know that my style, i make clique get close, i’m like
[?] make [?] l!ck my roaster
i told ya [?] got to have faith, so step
up and you’ll get played like pork on a muslim’s plate
you’ll get dashed away, i’ll make n-ggas p-ss away
make you say, “hey!” about some sh-t i kicked yesterday
so who’s next up to bat? my man, my mr
get on the mic while i go f-ck your sister
[verse 8: mr. man (aka mr. khaliyl) [of da bush babees]]
partially from the top of the head, heed
the words of the dread ‘cause i’m prolifically
speaking. so many slept on the powers of
the aggrafied one giving you more up on your dollars
scholars weren’t even smart enough to test
the best of the best ‘cause my mind manifests
time to make them know ‘cause the met’s in the mental
booming in your, booming in your, booming in your rental
mr. man coming equipped, and
i’m on the freestyle tip, so get a grip and
i forget the rhyme that i was saying, but
it didn’t really matter because my sh-t is still displaying
i got sk!lls plus i pay bills, so
i’ll p-ss it y-tee so you can get ill
[verse 9: y-tee (of da bush babees)]
[?]
[verse 10: doug e. fresh]
well, i’m
bad, bad, the wickedest man alive
bad, bad, the wickedest man alive
bad, bad, the wickedest man alive
the… (-beatbox-). i said
bad, bad, the wickedest man alive
bad, bad, the wickedest man alive
bad, bad, the wickedest man alive
(-beatbox-). yo, them call me
bad, bad, the wickedest man alive
the glock in my hand, no man can survive
the terror. you made a error in this area
now everybody’s in m-ss hysteria
don’t want to feel the shock of the glock, glock, glock ‘cause when i
aim it and then made it go “pop-pop-pop,” bodies
drop, drop, drop ‘cause then style stop, stop. son, you
scared? then run and call the cop, cop, cop. it go
boomshakalakalaka, boomshaka, boom, yo
make way and given the don some room ‘cause we
be rocking and of the stalkers in the house be
jocking because they be vexed, because their girlies be
clocking. up to the front, all the girlies start
flocking because, when i grab the mic, you know my style is so
shocking. it make all their dj rappers want to just
mock it or stop it or drop it, think to mop it
or pop it or flop it. hip hop, kid, nonstop, kid
the style is unique, my physique i critique, and i
speak with technique, never weak or complete, can’t be
beat, nor can any…
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