XXL — XXL Freshmen 2014 Cypher - Part 3

[Verse 1: Jon Connor] It’s Jon Connor, the people’s rapper Uh, look, ayy, start with a dream, young and naive and then they grow the ambition Fucked up conditions, put my mom’s in a better position See I’m the future like a psychic prediction I’m from the school of hard knocks, shit I did life in detention I’m from where niggas get shot down, dreams get shot down Wish the hood would let us live but all we heard was, “Block out” Now I’m further than what they believed I’d achieve ‘Cause Flint niggas don’t even want you to have dreams when you sleep Low expectations, no expectations, know what you facing Fuck the odds I proved you can get up from under a basement I been with scandalous bitches that will take you for granted Roll with scandalous niggas only taking advantage People take your kindness for weakness, taking you through the ringer It’s a gang bang, life is a bitch and it’s not a pre-nup Life is dirty, shit box dirty, and we’re playing clean-up Go through the Ike & Tina, before the Martin & Gina I play follow the leader and I done swam with the sharks made it out the Aquafina Niggas turned into leeches, turned these swamps into beaches My people saying, "Eureka!", niggas pretend, they hate you, they despise you, they ain’t you Niggas is full of shit that’s why they probably empty God promised a feast how you gon’ tempt me with Denny's Niggas and bitches rats, stay away from Mickey's and Minnie’s I fend for this city, when I ain’t have a friend in this city Adding in your two cents? I’ll show you what to do with them pennies, look My intellect been a wreck, crash course on this real shit In Flint, every day is a Virginia Tech, fuck rating on the internet Fuck what popping off in comments, pop off in public My niggas is into that, Jon Connor AVM, Aftermath, best in the world nigga! [Verse 2: Jarren Benton] Uh, Jarren Benton, half-man, half-tyrannosaurus I wasn’t born I was thrown out a spaceship and landed in an abandoned forest The Grizzly bear trapped Goldilocks in a pan of porridge I carve my name in ya fuckin’ scalp, you can’t ignore us Go get a damn thesaurus, the preacher, the son of God Only way you fuckin’ with Mister Benton, no facade I put a man in the desert sand, that’s no mirage I go gambit on niggas and pull your poker cards I go loco mark open heart surgery, with no power tools A fuckin’ monster, I will devour you I’m Cujo and cocaine with rabies in them These kids dying like Casey Anthony babysitting I’ll fuckin’ fuckin’ rip your tonsils out And throw your dead corpse in a tool shed in my uncle’s house I got love for Lil Boosie but free Mumia These niggas signing like three-60 deals for two new Kias Shit, TLC got a Rav-4 You might catch me in a Prius with a bad whore I snatch a rapper out the sunroof of a Jaguar You ain’t a spitter, then what the fuck do you rap for? Niggas like, “I ain’t a rapper, I’m a trapper” Then stay inside the trap or get eaten by the fuckin’ master Of ceremonies, it's hip hop, with a gold rope and a pair of ponies Can't grab a bitch by the ponytail ‘cause the hair is phony Moving from African Gods to Amistad To niggas going broke and still stuntin' in they momma’s car It’s FV 20-one-four, the summer’s ours And you a bitch in a woman’s skirt, son of a coward The fireman, I extinguish these niggas out fast I grew up off of Red, Em, Goodie Mob and Outkast I keep the Wu-Tang sword propped on the front seat That’s your favorite rapper? To me that nigga just lunch meat Jarren Benton, rest in peace Jahmal Pryor [Verse 3: Lil Bibby] Uh, let me talk my shit Bands in my pocket so I walk like this Just spent 80 grand when I bought my whip Lou told me to lease it but I bought my shit And I came in the game like LeBron James First the money, and the fame, then the broads came See your clique, 50 deep, but they all lame Young nigga stacking books like a card game They like, “How the fuck is he a freshman?” Young nigga spitting better than the veterans I need the cover, why the fuck I gotta sit with them? The whole world know these words ain't compared to him Uh, yeah the kid’s so cocky, feeling like Ali Niggas can’t stop me, jackers wanna rob me Opps wanna pop me, that's why I keep a lil’ bro right beside me I’m from the Chi, shit real in this motherfucker Fuck around, get killed in this motherfucker Paranoid, I can’t chill in this motherfucker Can’t leave without the steel in this motherfucker These niggas keep saying, “Don’t trip” Climbing to the top, I just hope I don’t slip Niggas sending threats and I never been a bitch So I’m steady buying guns, youngin feeling like tilt Lil Bibby I’m the same old pimp No more Ramen Noodles, just lobsters and shrimp I could be in jail tryna talk through them vents Or running from the cops, probably hopping a fence But I’m in the drop with the tints Flow so sick it don’t make no sense Niggas be mad I don’t take no pics Chain so froze I could take your bitch But I don’t even need ice though And this that '84 mic flow We don’t rap beef, my squad a little psycho Plus these rap niggas suck like Lipo I ain’t forgot about the old me Straight off the block now I’m ballin’ like Kobe [Verse 4: Troy Ave] Troy Ave, with the classic feel Bands be racking, major without a deal I’m that nigga, if you got eyes you could tell You’re seeing me rise, you're seeing me with XXL Putting on for my city and I’m doing it well So much style I should be down with The Stylistics as well This like B.I.G. and Jay, Troy Ave hit after I represent the streets, I ain’t these weirdo rapper Self-paid nigga came from whipping the batter Hit the bank they like, “Who is this young stacker?” HP, PSB, HE, double-L yes, oh baby, yeah, it’s me Ho spillers, smooth skinner, dope dealer Mad niggas be out in New York, my buzz iller I’m an ill nigga, Dungarees by Hilfiger As a lil’ nigga coming up, now I’m bigger In the dope game, then these fraud niggas with rap names I’m named after my block, Troy Ave mane Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, still in this street thang We’ll be at the Barclays, Nets versus Heat game Man, where these other niggas seats man? Man, these seats ain’t cheap, man These other niggas weak, man Talking ‘bout they proud of me Pay attention to my moves, but I style for free These bum nigga styles ain’t no style to me Dick riding never been transportation, B Powder, Troy Ave biz, we reckless New York City shit, uh huh