The Quarantine Cypher, Pt. 2 (feat. Wisewordsofeli, Zaye & E11)

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Chris Ash

Chris Ash (born December 24, 1973) is an American football coach who is the defensive backs and safeties coach for the Jacksonville Jaguars of the National Football League (NFL). A coaching veteran of 24 years, Ash previously served as the head coach at Rutgers University from 2016 to 2019 and also served as an assistant coach at the University of Texas at Austin, Ohio State University, University of Arkansas, University of Wisconsin–Madison, Iowa State University, San Diego State University and Drake University. more »

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Got that quarantine lock down
Bitch I'm on top now
I don't play ball but
Give me that rock now
Let the bass knock now
Molly gon' pop now
Party gon' pop out
Quarantine my house
That was on 9, Let me get up on 10
Messin' with my high, Messin' with my zen
Fuckin' with my friends
Take it up another level
We come heavy with the metal
Cookin' something in the kettle
I'm a rebel
I'm a motherfuckin' microphone
Murderous killer
I be lovin' all flavors but my skin vanilla
Who iller, Who sicker, Who triller than me
No Stevie, I wonder who feelin' like me
Need a little H-C with my Tea
S-D with my L's
So free
I'mma be me
Can't you tell
Open up my mind
I don't hit rewind
But I can not find
Find
But I can not find
What you do not have
Give it all of mine
I'm not goin' half
Let me go spaz on the rest though
Livin' so stressful
Livin' so blessed though
I can not wrestle with my ego
Where did he go
Think he smokin' Sour Diesel
Had to - on this beat though, This a free throw
Tell the people I'm gone
I'm stompin' on the game and got 'em loose
Never the caboose
I'm stirrin' up the scene causin' traffic with the jewels
Forget it, What it mean
Money like some food stamps, I'm cuttin' up
Like I get to choppin' like some food prep
Open wings, Fly and get up to a new step
I'm close in the game
I'm on its fuckin' doorstep
I'm Max givin' pain
Mistake like a misstep
Just got some new grain
You're messin' with my head I'll pick your bone apart
Give your ass a sprain
They're dumb like some bird brains
Haters got me stressed out
I'm adding to my kill count
Takin' cheap shots bitch you basically a discount
I knock 'em off their high horse
I call that shit a dismount
F*ck 'em
I need the money stretched out
Try and stop him you can get your whole damn team bounced
But I'm out
I've got money to make
No time to waste on some sell outs
Ayyo, They call me E11
I'm feelin' like a rap god
I'm rappin' on this beat with my homies, Shit
But I know I rap harder when I have the mic in my hands
Y'all thought I was done rappin
Aye, My last song was Flying High
And I had that shit poppin
Yeah
Yeah, Where's the truth
Yeah, These stacks of moneys
Stacks of money
Stacks of moneys
Yeah, These stacks of moneys
I got my blood pumpin
And my heart racin
Thinkin
I need to get my shit checked out
But nah
F*ck that
This is the rap scene
I got the rap flow
I grind harder with my shit every day and night
Cause I'm E11
The one you should listen to
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