I left
My mind mental going back to grind central. It is
Essential that I move my pencil. My credentials in my
Dental make it nice and simple, so y’all can hear it, never
Fear it, and you come and listen (Listen up, listen up) 'cause
My rhyme style forever glisten, making it a mission for
Rap to be a New-Age established religion
So we gon’ move it in my pulpit. My tabernacle
Will shackle any emcees that want to step to me and battle
I’m keeping the peace and order while I’m hitting the gavel
You talking that bullshit? You’re gonna hit the gravel
'Cause I’ma do what I can and do what I must
Those silly motherfuckers can’t rock the mic—they need to hush (Shut up)
I'll be your favorite fanatical lyrical lush
Feeding your ears with grade-A lyrical food stuffs
Making you blush when you hear it, making your spirit
Overjoyed from these lyrics. After, you want to spit it (Yeah)
Honey, we’re vivid on candid camera. Now, I’m scaring ya
Like Godzilla fighting Gamera, spreading malaria (Haha)
In your area, pandemonium just abound ‘cause
The CYNE’ll hit ya town with that musical sound now
And move the crowd with the graphic displays of physical
Waves that make you wanna lose it for days
Nigga, we made lyrical art and serenade
Impress the mind like miracles in biblical days

Blessing
The club with my presence, forgetting all of my lessons
The only protection that I’m carrying is not a weapon
Gets to high stepping when you see me. No man can ever
Beat me. I sit back and shine hard—believe me
I’m glistening, talking bullshit while bitches listening
Pushing a bubble, I’m sitting hard on black Michelin
Wrapped around a twenty-inch, buff shine ridiculous
Freak nasty hoes, squat down, and lick meticulous
You’re hearing this? Keeping these chickenheads delirious
With the vocab and the neck sparkling serious
Come on, shorty. Don’t look shy—no need fearing this
With your cute eyes, fat thighs, and hair marvelous (Yeah)
Your skin tone melodic, your voice sound exotic
You're so fine, potpourri scent from when you farted (Haha)
Let's get it started back at my place, getting retarded
And don’t be acting brand-new, boo—we getting on it. So what
You talk about? Here are my digits, so hit the walkabout
So we can set it up in the truck. You know we bout to fuck
So light it up. I’m blazing your mind. We’re passing the time
Fuck doing lines. We’re sipping on expensive wines
Damn, you’re fine. Pretty brown thighs I’m gonna climb
Body sublime, sipping Corona, licking the lime
Line for line, it’d be the Cise ripping your mind
So give me some time so we can unwind

Yo
This is how we did it. The city is getting me hype
Grabbing the mic, PreCise Star ripping it nice (Nice)
Dimming the lights, my words became the vehicle
Moving the crowd—lyrical sounds remain diesel
The speakers amplify the words of my mind. In the
Physical sense stands one-fourth of the CYNE. Repping
This rhyme, so I'm standing to the right of the God
"Up Above," giving love while he's rapping his song
Even though I stand 5'11", my head is touching heaven
Above the clouds, our sounds stop 9/11
I be the Deacon Reverend rocking a triple-7
It’d be the crews I'm wrecking, so, sonny, I’m call-collecting
I’m staying, leaving a message, but sometimes you’re second-guessing
You’d better be understanding that I never left a first question
Moving my music, meticulous in many directions
Hitting your city, town, area, province, and section