Team Backpack
BAR FIGHT™ - Locksmith Vs. CyHi The Prynce
[Verse 1: Locksmith]
Let's have a conversation, let's find a common combination
Between financial conservation and seeking compensation
You know, money and information is how you conquer nations
Whoever controls one - controls both
So what's the consolation?
A fabrication
A cynical aberration
A generation who can't fill out an application
Without an application
A fascist nation
Who shoots all minorities
The more you plead, the more you bleed
The more they feed authority
The morally right wing is stiffling
We don't condone with master
Every tone elapsed
Is a blow
To a broken bone and fracture
The music game is the same;
They wanna control the stature
Prince and Micheal Jackson died
Who benefits and who owns the masters?
The puppeteers
Are pulling the public's ears
We let a murderer walk free
So he could auction off his gun to peers
It's like the system's corruption
Has reached another tier
We progress
Some of you rappers are pulling us back a hundred years
Nothing is fact
They're drumming up fear
You summon up scum and scum will appear
To be the new summit
The dumber you've done it
Harder to stomach to some like the pen
Immigrant laws are closing us in
Due eminent flaws they're closing us in
Claiming they' illegal aliens
While stealing the land
We've stolen from them
See capitalism is capping the visions
Of people who lack what is missing
Giving the equal advantage
People that manage to break in to trap for a second
Break for a city where tragedy strikes
Send out a tweet like you actually might
Really do something
It teaches you nothing
Just ten minutes later you'll have a new Iphone
People say they care for the sus, though
See the lustful, some greater
Leaves we at cut throat
If you put on display
Then you see what I say
Is a threat to the whole constructo
People are willing to fiend
Searching for meaning
We lead on the lean
Guzzle it down [?] tell us
We're struggling for balance
They poison our dreams
I see it clear, I reject those ties
Learn how to breath and expect your lies
Yo, listen
I'm not done

And let it devour you wuss
'Cause you rather do listen to rappers who lie
Pay no allegiance to lyrics
The beat is the shit
When you turn up the mute in your mind
I seen the proof ain’t no use in you lyin'
I ain't the one like Cube in his prime
One person die
They blame the whole genre
They say the music the root of the crime
But maybe there's a point here
When the shots ring out they gon' point here
Think about the shit that you're bumping it with
And the dudes that you choose to annoy here
Maybe it's killing your soul
Maybe it's stuck in your veins
Maybe we'll never be free
Maybe you're happy in chains

Make some noise Team Backpack
[Verse 1: CyHi the Prynce]
Team Backpack what's happenin'?
I said: "Team Backpack, NYC, what's happenin'!?"
Say, "Go CyHi, go CyHi, go!"
(Go CyHi, go CyHi, go!)
I got gas in the car but the needle's still on E
In the clip or a gauge, I’ll leave twenty on pump 3
Harm me?, boy, you’ll be under ground like bombs be
In the concrete with your feet covered in concrete
Off the coast of Palm Beach while I'm twisting this palm tree
Huh, speaking of palms, the Pistol's in arm reach
So that means I'm running 'round with that bitch like it's prom week
I'm beyond street, grew up around Yay
Like I'm Donnnn C
Huh, y'all acting like I wasn't gon' come prepared tonight
This ain't my first gig, this more like the terabyte
Since a kid, I've viewed life as a paradise
Y'all didn't get it, I view life as a pair-of-sice
Try not to crap out, bagging work with the strap out
Chopper on the floor, Gucci Mane in the trap house
Some n***as tried to rob me [?]
But some people lost their lives
So that ain't nothing to laugh 'bout
Grand Lacerny - profiting done properly
You owe me like Monopoly? - N***a, I'm on your property
Pull a kick door, shawty, you know the policy
Took a n***a' elbows, now that's an arm robbery
Ghostface on camera, all you see is the wallabies [?]
Y'all just getting guns, n***a, we own the archery
12 won’t bother me if I shoot your ass from across the street
(Zoompf!), Lauryn Hill, I’m killing them softly
William Shakespear told me "To be or not to be"
Thou shall not hate, that's always been my philosophy
Don't call me CyHi no more, call me CyHocrates
Jay hit me up like, "CyHi I want the album"
Huh, and I don't even got a title on the album
I said Jay hit me up like, "Tidal want the album", shit
I don't even got a title or the album
Still fucking with my ex, I feel like my brother, Malcom
I'mma have to turn Muslim, I don't see no other outcome
I'm eating oysters with a bitch
Who knew this oyster on my wrist was an Aphrodisiac?
My flow so NYC, I might bring [?] back
With the new Yeezy packs and the green Luigi hat
But the album on the way
I ain't none of these rappers breathing me
Mix hip-hop and soul music
Y'all didn't know I was half-Korean
Team Backpack