Strangeulation, Vol. 2 Cypher 2

Stevie Stone, Ces Cru, Tech N9ne Collabos, Tech N9ne

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Tech N9ne

Aaron Dontez Yates (born November 8, 1971), better known by his stage name Tech N9ne (pronounced "Tech Nine"), is an American rapper from Kansas City, Missouri. In 1999, Yates and Travis O'Guin founded the record label Strange Music. Throughout his career, Yates has sold over one million albums and has had his music featured in film, television, and video games. In 2009, he won the Left Field Woodie award at the mtvU Woodie Awards. more »


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For 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

Feel the hate when they come around
To the bull that set a doubt
Feel the love, I'm the great and or the true
See the fakes and the snakes, I'm always outta bounds
See I been dealt a hand, my nigga, I can peep
Peeping the shifty fans, my nigga
They gon' (see) see me going h.a.m, getting bigger, nigga
(talk that shit if you want to hack my tech n9ne plead again)
Make sure you remember me, me the odd ball liquor
When stevie get to speaking, the plot
Thickens with and these niggas is vixens
Competition, it's really contradiction (uh-huh!)
Learning from the realest slim pickings
I love it, how you doubt a nigga, hound a nigga
Panned out, all this profit sought the stone to stand stout
On rigid and rare routes, it's like procedure to hear a nigga out
Strangeulation two and it's right now
Let's take it to another level, hot metal, black kettle, bitch
High pitched, fly shit, five settle, five words like the bandit lord
I think this weed got me paranoid
Middle finger to my enemies, I say all you niggas is bitches
Jurisdiction have so many restrictions
All you niggas is fiction, no conviction
Niggas get to dissin', I'll have you outta commission
Bodies missing, call my brother to lynch 'em
All you niggas is gimmicks, frail body and soul
All you niggas pretending, thought that we so-called family
All you niggas can get it, turning my volume up
Had us upon that midget
Let me hear you say names, let me hear you holler strange
I'm contained with flame, will leave your bodies decaying
Niggas be playing games, my niggas take your name
Have you in a debacle, better stay in your lane
Guess time'll tell (guess time'll tell, guess time'll tell)

Right hand over my heart of hearts I'm pledging allegiance
To ces, for whatever the reasons I have withered the seasons
They're dead in the breeze, I'm ready to feed 'em
I never believed 'em, you son of a bitch, son of a preacher, word of
Heaven and jesus, two seven and greaser, separation is still
And spreading diseases, my recommendation is cheddar your cheeses
Maybe you better get business, like I didn't know that I carried the load
I know your boy is heavy and heaving
That's word to strange and tech the n9ne, I mean, who better to lead us
Since I been with that team I been spinning them g's
Bitch, yeah, you better believe it, cash come in a bulk amount now
I'm staying ahead of my dreams so the f*ck 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 choosing my weapons wisely, we 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 something fishy
Twenty sixteen, strange music, making some fucking history

I know they want me to put up the pen
And just quit with the rapping, it won't never happen, no
For the minutes that I been in it
I'm a killer still in the back but I'm clapping though
In a matter of fact I been acting, so
Out of wack and my brain is on overload
I don't call anybody, ain't nobody calling 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 till i’m a goner
And haters are catering to me with
Wishes that I wouldn't win any longer
Idiot, you're just making 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 your 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, killing 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 coming out from
And I wouldn't consider you equal like other people
Where the f*ck is your album?
Shit to you is a hobby and obviously y'all
Ain't knowing to measure at all
Murdering it for pleasure, ain't fucking with godi
I'm sick with a medicine ball
Couldn't give 'em a shit, not even a little bit cause they haters, we know it
We all know the location, come get your face winched
Strangeulation reloaded! (f*ck)

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Written by: Donnie King, Michael Summers, Mike Viglione, Stephen Williams, Aaron Yates


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