OMG
2010 BET Hip Hop Awards - Cypher 3
[Intro: Ice Cube]
We Ice Cube, the West Coast warlord. I got my sons OMG and Doughboy in the house. We got the King of Rock, Reverend Run, in the house with his sons Diggy and Jojo. Let's go

[Verse 1: OMG]
Yo
Whoever on the track ain't runnin' with the boy
Beast mode, Bear Grylls don’t want it with the boy
I'm comin' with the noise, know that I’m a predator
With the metaphors, you could come and get destroyed
It’s West, the whole damn gang has evolved
It’s BBM, 'cause brothers don’t AIM anymore
This rap shit kinda like the NBA
'Cause everybody talkin’ Heat til they come to LA

[Verse 2: Doughboy]
Uh
We love the dough, that’s what they say
You can’t trust no ho when your pops O’Shea
And your uncle's Snoop and you push that Coupe
All the hoes get looser than a baby's tooth
Do what the fuck you want to protest me, n***a
And I still come up like the Islamic center
Doughboy, rare breed, like an Amish n***a
Young ice, it’s about to be the coldest winter

[Verse 3: Ice Cube]
If my two sons hate you, I’ma violate you
Give you that motherfuckin' broken bottle facial
This ain't racial, your new name is Rachel
Got homies in the pen that might wanna date you
I’ll under-rate you then annihilate you
Like the fucking therapist that said I had a breakthrough
This is what I live for, this is called survival
All my rivals are dead on arrival
This is a revival, better bring your bible
The lyrics that I kick is something you might die for
I’m not libel, homie, I’m the dope
Nope, that’s a typo, homie, I’m the Pope
West Coast pyscho on a motorcycle
Dressed like Michael, it ain't Halloween
My city’s so mean, I’m Idi Amin
I’m the bakers man, got the cake and the cream
[Verse 4: Diggy]
Uh
Gee, I’m only fifteen, but my sixteen strong
So I’ma spit this quick eight and let you fiends get warm
The teenie boppa' got you leanin' proper, never seen him drop a
Wack song, I’m the don, like Lebron, got the heat poppin'
Light-skinned like Chico Debarge is
I got you locked up, 'cause you know what the bars is
I’ma a star kid and I swear if Nicki baby sit me
I just might learn what a menage is

[Verse 5: Jojo]
Uh, uh
Okay, rappers think they hot? They a broken thermometer
See what I’m saying, like you spoken through monitors
My rhymes is Vietnam mixed with atomic bomb
But I’m hungrier than a bunch of muslims on Ramadan
Ha, I gotta shine, I was born to be the greatest
Hate so much, like it’s wrong for me to make it, ha
I never get 'em, I'm smooth as a leather chair
And every time you see me, I get better every year

[Verse 6: Rev Run]
Yeah, yeah, yo
Now once again my friend, it’s the Reverend
The first platinum status rap president
And from the coast of California to the shores of Maine
Got a East Coast sound and my beats go bang
Going flowing, showing rock, knocking shocking the mind
Illing, chilling, and killing, so come on check out my rhymes
Meeting, greeting, and seating suckers all on the road
Crashing, mashin' and bashing, my name is Run, call me Joe
Bad as ever and clever and never second to none
Wearing leather in weather, what's your name? DJ Run
But in the summer’s a bummer, 'cause I leave 'em at home
Just Adidas and me and Lee and D on the throne
King and I on the crown, selling gems by the pound
Making, taking and breaking all of you suckers around
Putting fear in your heart, at the top of the chart
Stunning, cunning and funny, 'cause Run be running this art