Artist: Tech N9ne f/ CES Cru, Stevie Stone
Album:  Strangeulation Vol. II
Song:   Strangeulation Vol. II Cypher II
Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com 

[Intro: Tech N9ne]
What I wanted to do, was take some of my classic beats
and send 'em, to my artists to see, what they would come up with
on these beats that I love so much
So I wanna call Stevie Stone, and Ces Cru to murder
Let's go

[Stevie Stone]
Feel the hate when they come around
Little bull better settle down
Feel the love, I'm the great and know the true
See the fakes and the snakes, I'm always outta bounds
See I been dealt a hand my nigga
I can (peep) peep, peepin the shifty fans my nigga
They gon' (see) see me goin H.A.M, gettin bigger nigga
(Talk that shit if you want to, hack my Tech N9ne, play it again)
Make sure you remember me, me the oddball lick 'em
When Stevie get to speakin, the plot, thickens written
These niggaz is vixens, competition is really contradiction (uh-huh!)
Yearnin for the realest slim pickings
I love it how you doubt a nigga, hound a nigga, panned out
This profit sought the Stone to stand stout, on rigid and rare routes
It's like procedure to hear a nigga out (uh-huh)
"Strangeulation 2" and it's right now (ha!)
Let's take it to another level, hot metal
Black kettle bitch, high pitched, fly shit, falsetto
Fireworks like the band of glory (band of glory)
I think this weed got me paranoid
Middle finger to my enemies, I say all you niggaz is bitches
Jurisdiction have so many restrictions, all you niggaz is fiction
No conviction, niggaz get to dissin
I'll have you outta commission, bodies missin
Call my +Brotha+ to +Lynch+ 'em, all you niggaz is gimmicks (uh-huh)
Frail body and soul, all you niggaz pretendin
Thought that we so-called family, all you niggaz can get it
Turnin my volume up, had us up on that mention
Let me hear you say names, let me hear you holler Strange (Strange)
Octane with flame will leave your bodies decayin
Niggaz be playin games, my niggaz takin aim
Have you in a debacle, better stay in yo' lane
Guess time'll tell {*echoes*}

[Ubiquitous]
Right hand over my heart of hearts I'm pledgin allegiance
to Ces, for whatever the reasons I have weathered the seasons
They're dead in the breeze, I'm ready to feed 'em, mean I never believed 'em
You son of a bitch, son of a preacher, word of Heaven and Jesus
Through seven degrees of, separation and still they spreadin diseases
My recommendation is cheddar your cheeses, maybe you better get beez'ness
Like I didn't know that I carried the load, I know ya boy is heavy I'm heavin
That's word to Strange and Tech the N9ne, I mean who better to lead us?
Since I been with the team I been spendin them G's bitch
And you better believe it, cash come in a bulk amount now
I'm stayin ahead of my dreams so the fuck could I sulk about?
For real, I'll never be satisfied still, I don't be vocal out loud
Respect is due, I show it, don't blow it, my records are outbound
Chill, I'm choosin my weapons wisely, and never will lose direction
Guide 'em through the "Recession Proof", should include a confession, truth
Started from the Bikini Bottom, we're here but it's somethin fishy
2016, Strange Music makin some fuckin history

[Godemis]
I know they want me to put up the pen and just quit with the rappin, it won't never happen, no
For the minutes that I been in it, I'm a killer and still in the back but I'm clappin though
And a matter of fact I been actin so, out of wack and my brain is on overload
I don't call anybody, ain't nobody callin me, maybe I don't need a phone no mo'
Guess I won't pay the bill and the villain is spillin venom in him then I'm a goner
And haters are caterin to me with wishes that I wouldn't win any longer
Idiot you're just makin me stronger, wanna kill me then pay me no mind
Get a record to spot a bit longer, if you don't feel me then get on yo' grind
I don't mean to be mean but the measure is simple when you try to weather the outcome
Now I don't need a reason, kill in any season, in fact I am better without one
You don't know anything about heat or the temp of the weather that I'm comin out from
And I wouldn't consider you equal like other people, where the fuck is your album?
Shit to you is a hobby and obviously y'all ain't knowin the measure at all
Murderin it for pleasure, ain't fuckin with Gode', I'm sick with a medicine ball
Couldn't give 'em a shit, not even a little bit cause they hatin, we know it
We all know the location, come get your face winched, "Strangeulation" reloaded {*boom*}
Fuck