Three Wise Men | O.C.D Cypher 2 by Team Backpack Lyrics
[Verse 1: Oswin Benjamin Prod. Trox]
Yo
Cannot see the finish line to this Aryan race I'm running from
Hollow causes from empty leaders
Who studied them laws of manipulation
Deceiving people lost in the season
[?] discontentment
Some are a failure to father their self-esteem
Springing malice forward 'til pain submitted
I seek love and affection, but get caught in redemption
I'm the flaw and perfection
My good intention has skewed my vision of hell for heaven
Let that sit for a second
I regain from aggression
Do all I can for the insurance my flow's progressive
Okay, I'm back with it
And so I've seen that divinities are my genes
So I really do slack with it
Consciousness of a black cricket
Ventriloquist; how I'm pulling strings to a sizzle of voiceless dummies that lack wisdom; a bunch of half-christians
In love with role-playing an active victim
I'm just a vagabond off my pivot
Nothing but a travelling pilgrim, who don't believe in religion
See, I believe in building this culture of agriculture
Water down the soil of disbelief, planting millions of mustard seeds
The keys to the kingdom
With the belief that God is always on time
Order my steps, but I'll find the shoes to fit me online
I cried when I went to Portugal
The Cuban links on my arm, in exchange for like seven days
Worth of [?]
My train of thought turns styles every swipe
See, I ain't write this to outshine the last cypher
But give old heads and new niggas a good reminder
That we ain't playin' with ya
These wise men are controlling shit with no gaming system
Stay in yo lane and feelings, some races ain't made to finish
I'm from where couches and wooden floors was my mattresses
And a bag of Doritos is all I ate for dinner
So y'all lost your cotton pickin' mind if y'all don't see me
And see the hunger of 8 slaves sharing the same plate, nigga
Kendrick Lamar, Ghostface, Cyhi The Prynce, Raekwon
I love y'all, but know I need that spot
I need everyone of your fans
I need mom and pops holding hands
I need the world to see that he has God
Not that he has bars
But [?]
Give the beat business, so they see past ours
And through our scars, they can see that God's working
And even when I try to fit in, I got reminded
To be the one you gotta be that all
Preach!
[Verse 2: Chris Rivers]
Rolling dolo for the dough though
Learn to either fly, or go extinct just like a Dodo
Chasing toto, popo want to put my soul in choke-holds
So this coco butter caramel complexion is a no-no
Han Solo, flying solo with the force of [?]
I'm the best - don't gotta say it
It's implied like homeless hobos
No hoes could make my hope grow
This for my Yoko Ono
Been the shit since shitting diapers
Fighting crimes as Mojo Jojo, woah
Smoking on that Power-puff, known to hold a mountain up
Atlas balance smashes, going at it with my father's stuff
Hoping that he's proud of us
Ain't been a peach, like Bowser's crush
Surprised my eyes ain't blue or my hair turn blond when I power up
Super when I'm saying shit
Trooper when I aim from hips
Uber when I slay a bitch
Kuba when I'm slinging bricks
Cooler like I came from ships
Ruler like my name is Rick
Scuba, what you saying Chris?
Words be deep like sing with fish
Chris Angel angles, I'm magician
But the writtens known to
Strip you niggas down and carry ones like short division
Porcelain and awkward winners
Often mimicked by my victims
Horse kick ain't never ever soft like offing linen
Nigga, listen
I'm next to nothing, I'm first me forever, God
So don't ask me about my pops, Joe or Terror Squad
No disrespect
This index - in line with holy figures, yes
Work to fucking hard to keep it clean, fuck a disinfect
No Pine-Sol, no Lysol, no Ajax, no comment
Unless it's post-apocalyptic post from Nostradamus
Predict a heavenly fire
Cause for all my rhyming while my name on Insta is "dragonsandrivers"
Leave a comment, aye
Shout-out to the shelter system
Fucked up but I felt conditions, that felt deficient
And made me realize I felt deficient
So, started penning lectures
[?] through get togethers
Slept on floors, stood cold
'Cause they chilled in my beds and sweaters
Always getting better, OCD - notice that we flow with ease
Potency that matches all the weed that you get overseas
Born to be a legend in these frozen sheets
In the open, never hide and seek
No Imogen Heap
Holy sheet
Openly I gotta say, I do this for respect
To kick back death
To spit raps best
For kids that stress
To live that bless
For chick's mad sex
For the big ass check
And for that throne that I ain't get back yet
Nigga, Rivers!
[Interlude: Denzil Porter, Oswin Benjamin]
Hands up with me
Come on - Rock with me, rock with me!
Hay Hay, hay, hay, hay
Oswin stay right here real quick
Talk to 'em, talk to 'em
Check it
Look
[Verse 3: Denzil Porter, Oswin Benjamin]
They picked this hard beat because they know I'm 'bout it
O.C.D plus heartbeat like it's overpowered
Life's sweet so we roll this sour
Gimme that, I'm taking crowns from cowards
Everything yours is ours
And ain't no battery in my back; I'm solar powered
Soning niggas like hold this
My nigga Rivers ain't notice
But most of these bros underscore
Like under F9, a hoe should see
I told him let her go
He still rolled the role with that whole bitch
That hoe is like camo (I can't find anything that she don't go with)
Plus I got soldiers and soldiers that shoulder to shoulder
Even if my mountains ain't high enough
You a stone to a boulder
A swollen rat to a cobra
I'm your vascular Dracula
That's unmasking the phantom at every opera spectacular
I know homies that be sparking, and lose they homies often
Y'all talking 'bout views and all they know is open coffins
I know them homies mad, because I told them hold their offers
I let them burn they bridges, either that or throw 'em of it
Kill you, then I'll raid your tomb like Lara Croft would
I find it ironic how watered down bros be so salted
I'm higher than this peace sign, they're lower than my balls been
I'm bound to fuck the world, even if I have to pull up your coffin
[?]
Look
I'm just your saviour coming into appearance
Condemning who ain't coherent
Won't save them with a clearance
So ill even Koreans could hear it
They want drugs, If you trust 'em
Hit 'em with plugs like Caribbean parents
Wa'gwan
My movement is winning, my mood is so finished
This garbage ain't get so popping that they could use it for shipping
[?] pull up, so much they think it's [?]
More than pink eye when I drop if you intrude on my vision
Moving a Ruger position, my mechanics are different
Give your girl an exorcism; have her mattresses lifting
Head spinning, or shifting, if you even against the Os
Net stalk after treason, that's even against the odds
And uh
"This ain't Superman or Christopher Reeve
This is Porter fucking around, this how Christopher reads
Just emulating with my statements, straight from Brooklyn I write."
Impersonating angry Os with Chris' teeth stuck in the mic
UH!
[Interlude: Oswin Benjamin, Chris Rivers, Denzil Porter]
What the fuck ?
This nigga talk-
I got it, I got it, I got it
You got it ?
I got it
You got it ?
Fuck y'all niggas
Yo, hold this shit, hold this shit
Hold up
Chris
[Verse 4: Oswin Benjamin, (Denzil Porter)]
That was mean, man, can't believe this kid
This Jamaican jerk think he the goat, but he' lacking the seasoning
Another incense-burning, no-sock-wearing, Guinness drinking, Really bouncing dance-hall nigga making guns with his fingers
You look like [?] 'fore his hair was knotted
Poor Denzil Porter's my Porta Potty
I'm shitting on this dark skin, nigga
Light skin squinting
Using the same salt from the cartel when the vibes went missing
Os winning, never winded
Like a cool breeze between Chris' teeth when he' whistlin'
God done sentenced this nigga' tongue to a life in prison
And with a gap like that you ain't gotta floss, nigga (No, nigga)
Like not at all, nigga (not at all!)
That separation is like a partner that got caught slipping
And when you smiling in winter, your tonsils'll get frost bitten
I'm not at all finished, wait
No sus' rebuttals either, Chris, your mouth's got a pause in it
Your custom sippy straws a quarter thick
You took a sip out of a gallon of water and drank all of it
And he recorded it
Nah, I'm just kidding with you
But if your mouth was set up like a 2-3 zone
Would've had no problem splitting the middle
See I'm the one, black magic all in this son
And y'all niggas can't fuck with son
Here's a little pun for Little Pun
No matter how big you get, or how BIG you get
You'll never hold the weight to get up out your father's shadow
Yeah, that's how you handle bars pedalling through a bar battle
Little stinking nigga, you mad cause I showed what everyone else was thinking, nigga!
[Verse 5: Chris Rivers, (Oswin Benjamin)]
I want Oswin's beat, I want Oswin's beat!
Oswin the only man that need panoramic cameras on cat scans
You get it?
'Cause his fore.. I mean, his twelve head is next to the Gods
Young Whoopi need to edit this off
You look like someone dropped and shitted out a predator doll
I know you heard of restraints
One more inch of circumference might just have murdered your neck
Wait..
Is that a jersey or dress?
I know you're masking your masculinity
But mask ain't the remedy
I don't think they make masks for 7 jeeps
How you holding up nigga?
You literally got the whole world on your shoulders, my nigga
I know you moving mountains
'Cause you were born a boulder, my nigga
Just be bolder, my nigga
I thought I told you, my nigga
And Denzil, you mad frail
Punch your chest and make your shoulders touch (Ha!)
Rap's your fall back
You had a bachelors in Golden Krust (Ha!)
Your career is like your eyelids, bro
It just ain't holding up
Holding up fonta leaves for light bulbs for heat
You smoke enough, oh
Young Flame, I ain't finished yet (Wooo)
My last line is like your hairdo, partner, I just ain't pick it yet (I just ain't pick it yet)
And I can save a lot in 15 minutes or less
You GEICO lizard-looking, chicken-[?]-cooking, in-the-blizzard-shooking, could-fit-the-fish-smell and fish-and-chips-boiling fake Jamaican
'Cause your accent, just ain't as great as this set is
Yo, Os!
If your forehead was a state It'd be Texas
Now check it
Denzil Washington, nah
Chris Rock is your dad
You just wanna be a Freda Gatz look-a-like
Like so bad
It's so sad
But fuck it, we living
These teeth jokes are weak pokes, dawg
But fuck it, let's hear it
It's Rivers!
[Verse 6: Denzil Porter (Oswin Benjamin & Chris Rivers)]
Uh
Uh whatever
Uh
Here we go with those jerk chicken and curry jokes
I'm coming for the chip, appreciate those curry jokes
Hurry folks, I know these are buddies, so I'll be courteous
Os can see the wind coming; why you wore that jersey dress?
Chris fighting pop bellies and he ain't even thirty yet
Os can't get what I earned, don't even have a shirt to press
Throw Rivers in his last name; cement to further depths
I keep saying Chris the best, sike
I ain't curses yet
Chris - why you skin look like dirty teeth?
Os you [?] burger beef, and then you go to D.R for surgery
On that forehead, and I bet you could think fast
And you hide behind that seashell, but your head so big I get you a king crab
But enough of that, let's go ahead and [?] it up
Go ahead and laugh it up
And realize the whole crowd is backing up
And I know you got goals, so you're running, got sick and tired
Of sitting down and your front teeth poking holes in your stomach
Yeah I'm Jamaican, so ladies I can take what I wanted
Oswin's girl I've been jamming like a face on a hundred
Left the place in the basement, with some cases of rum, and
Complaining that he growing backwards
Who press Benjamin Button?
You're always mad, motherfucker
Dag, motherfucker
That's why you're a fan of all these sad motherfuckers
Every new Drake drop - it just be touching his mood
Just make sure you wear condoms since you fuck with his views
And Rivers - notice the game, I thought this shit done changing
So ahead of my time, he's still dissing Young Flame
See what happens when shit gets to your head? It gets real
I got Oswin by the dreads and Rivers by the grill
Causing damage anytime I'm just standing, I let 'em have it
Had to challenge ourselves since no one else accept the challenge
[Outro: Oswin Benjamin, Chris Rivers, Denzil Porter ]
And it's closed nigga
It's closed like Oswin's jersey dress
Nah, nah, nah
It's closed like Chris' gap after forty years of braces, nigga
Nah, nah, nah
It's closed like- like the opposite of- of Oswin's snapback
Ay it's closed, nigga, it's closed
Team Backpack make some noise
Yo
Cannot see the finish line to this Aryan race I'm running from
Hollow causes from empty leaders
Who studied them laws of manipulation
Deceiving people lost in the season
[?] discontentment
Some are a failure to father their self-esteem
Springing malice forward 'til pain submitted
I seek love and affection, but get caught in redemption
I'm the flaw and perfection
My good intention has skewed my vision of hell for heaven
Let that sit for a second
I regain from aggression
Do all I can for the insurance my flow's progressive
Okay, I'm back with it
And so I've seen that divinities are my genes
So I really do slack with it
Consciousness of a black cricket
Ventriloquist; how I'm pulling strings to a sizzle of voiceless dummies that lack wisdom; a bunch of half-christians
In love with role-playing an active victim
I'm just a vagabond off my pivot
Nothing but a travelling pilgrim, who don't believe in religion
See, I believe in building this culture of agriculture
Water down the soil of disbelief, planting millions of mustard seeds
The keys to the kingdom
With the belief that God is always on time
Order my steps, but I'll find the shoes to fit me online
I cried when I went to Portugal
The Cuban links on my arm, in exchange for like seven days
Worth of [?]
My train of thought turns styles every swipe
See, I ain't write this to outshine the last cypher
But give old heads and new niggas a good reminder
That we ain't playin' with ya
These wise men are controlling shit with no gaming system
Stay in yo lane and feelings, some races ain't made to finish
I'm from where couches and wooden floors was my mattresses
And a bag of Doritos is all I ate for dinner
So y'all lost your cotton pickin' mind if y'all don't see me
And see the hunger of 8 slaves sharing the same plate, nigga
Kendrick Lamar, Ghostface, Cyhi The Prynce, Raekwon
I love y'all, but know I need that spot
I need everyone of your fans
I need mom and pops holding hands
I need the world to see that he has God
Not that he has bars
But [?]
Give the beat business, so they see past ours
And through our scars, they can see that God's working
And even when I try to fit in, I got reminded
To be the one you gotta be that all
Preach!
[Verse 2: Chris Rivers]
Rolling dolo for the dough though
Learn to either fly, or go extinct just like a Dodo
Chasing toto, popo want to put my soul in choke-holds
So this coco butter caramel complexion is a no-no
Han Solo, flying solo with the force of [?]
I'm the best - don't gotta say it
It's implied like homeless hobos
No hoes could make my hope grow
This for my Yoko Ono
Been the shit since shitting diapers
Fighting crimes as Mojo Jojo, woah
Smoking on that Power-puff, known to hold a mountain up
Atlas balance smashes, going at it with my father's stuff
Hoping that he's proud of us
Ain't been a peach, like Bowser's crush
Surprised my eyes ain't blue or my hair turn blond when I power up
Super when I'm saying shit
Trooper when I aim from hips
Uber when I slay a bitch
Kuba when I'm slinging bricks
Cooler like I came from ships
Ruler like my name is Rick
Scuba, what you saying Chris?
Words be deep like sing with fish
Chris Angel angles, I'm magician
But the writtens known to
Strip you niggas down and carry ones like short division
Porcelain and awkward winners
Often mimicked by my victims
Horse kick ain't never ever soft like offing linen
Nigga, listen
I'm next to nothing, I'm first me forever, God
So don't ask me about my pops, Joe or Terror Squad
No disrespect
This index - in line with holy figures, yes
Work to fucking hard to keep it clean, fuck a disinfect
No Pine-Sol, no Lysol, no Ajax, no comment
Unless it's post-apocalyptic post from Nostradamus
Predict a heavenly fire
Cause for all my rhyming while my name on Insta is "dragonsandrivers"
Leave a comment, aye
Shout-out to the shelter system
Fucked up but I felt conditions, that felt deficient
And made me realize I felt deficient
So, started penning lectures
[?] through get togethers
Slept on floors, stood cold
'Cause they chilled in my beds and sweaters
Always getting better, OCD - notice that we flow with ease
Potency that matches all the weed that you get overseas
Born to be a legend in these frozen sheets
In the open, never hide and seek
No Imogen Heap
Holy sheet
Openly I gotta say, I do this for respect
To kick back death
To spit raps best
For kids that stress
To live that bless
For chick's mad sex
For the big ass check
And for that throne that I ain't get back yet
Nigga, Rivers!
[Interlude: Denzil Porter, Oswin Benjamin]
Hands up with me
Come on - Rock with me, rock with me!
Hay Hay, hay, hay, hay
Oswin stay right here real quick
Talk to 'em, talk to 'em
Check it
Look
[Verse 3: Denzil Porter, Oswin Benjamin]
They picked this hard beat because they know I'm 'bout it
O.C.D plus heartbeat like it's overpowered
Life's sweet so we roll this sour
Gimme that, I'm taking crowns from cowards
Everything yours is ours
And ain't no battery in my back; I'm solar powered
Soning niggas like hold this
My nigga Rivers ain't notice
But most of these bros underscore
Like under F9, a hoe should see
I told him let her go
He still rolled the role with that whole bitch
That hoe is like camo (I can't find anything that she don't go with)
Plus I got soldiers and soldiers that shoulder to shoulder
Even if my mountains ain't high enough
You a stone to a boulder
A swollen rat to a cobra
I'm your vascular Dracula
That's unmasking the phantom at every opera spectacular
I know homies that be sparking, and lose they homies often
Y'all talking 'bout views and all they know is open coffins
I know them homies mad, because I told them hold their offers
I let them burn they bridges, either that or throw 'em of it
Kill you, then I'll raid your tomb like Lara Croft would
I find it ironic how watered down bros be so salted
I'm higher than this peace sign, they're lower than my balls been
I'm bound to fuck the world, even if I have to pull up your coffin
[?]
Look
I'm just your saviour coming into appearance
Condemning who ain't coherent
Won't save them with a clearance
So ill even Koreans could hear it
They want drugs, If you trust 'em
Hit 'em with plugs like Caribbean parents
Wa'gwan
My movement is winning, my mood is so finished
This garbage ain't get so popping that they could use it for shipping
[?] pull up, so much they think it's [?]
More than pink eye when I drop if you intrude on my vision
Moving a Ruger position, my mechanics are different
Give your girl an exorcism; have her mattresses lifting
Head spinning, or shifting, if you even against the Os
Net stalk after treason, that's even against the odds
And uh
"This ain't Superman or Christopher Reeve
This is Porter fucking around, this how Christopher reads
Just emulating with my statements, straight from Brooklyn I write."
Impersonating angry Os with Chris' teeth stuck in the mic
UH!
[Interlude: Oswin Benjamin, Chris Rivers, Denzil Porter]
What the fuck ?
This nigga talk-
I got it, I got it, I got it
You got it ?
I got it
You got it ?
Fuck y'all niggas
Yo, hold this shit, hold this shit
Hold up
Chris
[Verse 4: Oswin Benjamin, (Denzil Porter)]
That was mean, man, can't believe this kid
This Jamaican jerk think he the goat, but he' lacking the seasoning
Another incense-burning, no-sock-wearing, Guinness drinking, Really bouncing dance-hall nigga making guns with his fingers
You look like [?] 'fore his hair was knotted
Poor Denzil Porter's my Porta Potty
I'm shitting on this dark skin, nigga
Light skin squinting
Using the same salt from the cartel when the vibes went missing
Os winning, never winded
Like a cool breeze between Chris' teeth when he' whistlin'
God done sentenced this nigga' tongue to a life in prison
And with a gap like that you ain't gotta floss, nigga (No, nigga)
Like not at all, nigga (not at all!)
That separation is like a partner that got caught slipping
And when you smiling in winter, your tonsils'll get frost bitten
I'm not at all finished, wait
No sus' rebuttals either, Chris, your mouth's got a pause in it
Your custom sippy straws a quarter thick
You took a sip out of a gallon of water and drank all of it
And he recorded it
Nah, I'm just kidding with you
But if your mouth was set up like a 2-3 zone
Would've had no problem splitting the middle
See I'm the one, black magic all in this son
And y'all niggas can't fuck with son
Here's a little pun for Little Pun
No matter how big you get, or how BIG you get
You'll never hold the weight to get up out your father's shadow
Yeah, that's how you handle bars pedalling through a bar battle
Little stinking nigga, you mad cause I showed what everyone else was thinking, nigga!
[Verse 5: Chris Rivers, (Oswin Benjamin)]
I want Oswin's beat, I want Oswin's beat!
Oswin the only man that need panoramic cameras on cat scans
You get it?
'Cause his fore.. I mean, his twelve head is next to the Gods
Young Whoopi need to edit this off
You look like someone dropped and shitted out a predator doll
I know you heard of restraints
One more inch of circumference might just have murdered your neck
Wait..
Is that a jersey or dress?
I know you're masking your masculinity
But mask ain't the remedy
I don't think they make masks for 7 jeeps
How you holding up nigga?
You literally got the whole world on your shoulders, my nigga
I know you moving mountains
'Cause you were born a boulder, my nigga
Just be bolder, my nigga
I thought I told you, my nigga
And Denzil, you mad frail
Punch your chest and make your shoulders touch (Ha!)
Rap's your fall back
You had a bachelors in Golden Krust (Ha!)
Your career is like your eyelids, bro
It just ain't holding up
Holding up fonta leaves for light bulbs for heat
You smoke enough, oh
Young Flame, I ain't finished yet (Wooo)
My last line is like your hairdo, partner, I just ain't pick it yet (I just ain't pick it yet)
And I can save a lot in 15 minutes or less
You GEICO lizard-looking, chicken-[?]-cooking, in-the-blizzard-shooking, could-fit-the-fish-smell and fish-and-chips-boiling fake Jamaican
'Cause your accent, just ain't as great as this set is
Yo, Os!
If your forehead was a state It'd be Texas
Now check it
Denzil Washington, nah
Chris Rock is your dad
You just wanna be a Freda Gatz look-a-like
Like so bad
It's so sad
But fuck it, we living
These teeth jokes are weak pokes, dawg
But fuck it, let's hear it
It's Rivers!
[Verse 6: Denzil Porter (Oswin Benjamin & Chris Rivers)]
Uh
Uh whatever
Uh
Here we go with those jerk chicken and curry jokes
I'm coming for the chip, appreciate those curry jokes
Hurry folks, I know these are buddies, so I'll be courteous
Os can see the wind coming; why you wore that jersey dress?
Chris fighting pop bellies and he ain't even thirty yet
Os can't get what I earned, don't even have a shirt to press
Throw Rivers in his last name; cement to further depths
I keep saying Chris the best, sike
I ain't curses yet
Chris - why you skin look like dirty teeth?
Os you [?] burger beef, and then you go to D.R for surgery
On that forehead, and I bet you could think fast
And you hide behind that seashell, but your head so big I get you a king crab
But enough of that, let's go ahead and [?] it up
Go ahead and laugh it up
And realize the whole crowd is backing up
And I know you got goals, so you're running, got sick and tired
Of sitting down and your front teeth poking holes in your stomach
Yeah I'm Jamaican, so ladies I can take what I wanted
Oswin's girl I've been jamming like a face on a hundred
Left the place in the basement, with some cases of rum, and
Complaining that he growing backwards
Who press Benjamin Button?
You're always mad, motherfucker
Dag, motherfucker
That's why you're a fan of all these sad motherfuckers
Every new Drake drop - it just be touching his mood
Just make sure you wear condoms since you fuck with his views
And Rivers - notice the game, I thought this shit done changing
So ahead of my time, he's still dissing Young Flame
See what happens when shit gets to your head? It gets real
I got Oswin by the dreads and Rivers by the grill
Causing damage anytime I'm just standing, I let 'em have it
Had to challenge ourselves since no one else accept the challenge
[Outro: Oswin Benjamin, Chris Rivers, Denzil Porter ]
And it's closed nigga
It's closed like Oswin's jersey dress
Nah, nah, nah
It's closed like Chris' gap after forty years of braces, nigga
Nah, nah, nah
It's closed like- like the opposite of- of Oswin's snapback
Ay it's closed, nigga, it's closed
Team Backpack make some noise