Passionate MC
Kaj Kadence, Passionate MC, Denzil Porter, VI Seconds | LAX to JFK
[Intro]
Wassup teambackpack?
This is the cypher
Live in Brooklyn
Let's get it (teambackpack . net)

[Intro to verse 1]
Check, cash, Brooklyn, uhh
Vietnam, forties, Flatbush
Check, check, yo, yo, yo

[Verse 1: Kaj Kadence]
Who would've thought this young Brooklyn brat
Carolina fad, knuckle head
Would get ahead in life
Boy, my name good in every hood
Like fried chicken that's been breaded twice
Lucky bastard
You would think this n***a happened
Shooting craps with loaded dice

I know the shit I'm saying is grizzly
But bear with me
From the city where the cubs is griddy
And bears semis
Hittin' ya poad aplenty
Enemy souls be empty
N***as deep in the Lincoln
I'll pop your head for a penny
Love thy profit
Make change on ya dolly
Cause n***as is dime dropping
Gotta watch 'em, that's a fact
Fayetteville summertime
N***as got no chill
Pupils kill for the thrill
So I Keese my eyes on 'em like Jack

He would've known where the rappers at
We underground in the nap sacks
So what that mean, these n***as, teambackpack
So back back
Living Legends split your lower half
Get your ass cracked, scrap
Trying to live up to that gas

Let that shit go
'fore n***as catch you slippin'
With the pump-up at the Citgo
That's how it go, with this pencil
I'll be fucking up your mental
My credentials? presidential verses
Matter of fact this ain't a verse
Bitch it's attempted murder
Waging jihad on infidels
Who dont believe in this God
I'm Allah, I'm Krishna, no I'm Jah
Bitch, I'm Ra
Think I'm Horus, think I'm Set
Blowing Buddah, Jesus Christ
Show me Judas, swear to you
I'll fucking do 'em with a ruger

On some grown man dolly shit
Hoes who know me
Know I'd rather shit my own hand
Before a piece of a phony
Tenderoanies hit the phone
I only answer if it’s money
Or that crew from lakay
No matter how hard you try

You cannot do this like I
Thinking you can catch up?
Motherfucker, I switch gears
Bitch n***a, I've been here
Bad boy, this is my big year
First cypher had the world wondering:
"who the fuck was that in the Knicks gear?"
Coming from that burrow
With them n***as get wild cheese
Even though the D's never leave the block
Like Styles P
Fuck it, I think it's time that they crown me
Brooklyn, you birth me, Vietnam North khaki nursed me

[Intro to verse 2]
Ye, whaddup everybody?
Hi, my name is Passionate MC
(teambackpack . net)
Look

[Verse 2: Passionate MC]
I'm the reason these lames ain't breathing
The same reason that Kane kept his face secret
I maintain with insane demons
The rage, aimin' and squeezing to bang
Like it's gang season

You don't wanna cross sabers with Darth Vader
My short temper leave families at funerals with long faces
Call your wife
She knows what the back of the car was like
When I start her up
She just blows to exhaust the pipe

Now I know why you're mad with it
When her vag' Splitted to ‘em
See pash’ in it/Passionate
Lean with it, rock with it
I leave the scene when the shots hit it
And make it seem like the cops did it

Shock n***as, drop n***as
And tear the block with ya' Glock gripper
Look you in the face and then: pop, n***a!
Oh, I can't wait to hear the fuckin' screams
When I lift and catch bodies like a trampoline

I used to be an all-star rap athlete
Football never thought me and rap with me
I ran a 4-3-40 yard dash with ease
And even then they couldn't keep up
On the track with me

Psycho
Fully automatic rifle spittin' psychic vision
Really want to get ‘em with the right precision
Ready on the enemy with heightened vision
Single-handedly sniped you bitches
From such a stifling distance
The record would be too extensive to write for Guinness

Uh, and now they mad cause my rap buzz
Well if you wanna battle put a stack and a half up
And if you think that's the reason right now
I'll free-style off of the top
To get it down

N***as know that it's that time
When I get it in
One punch from this chump'
Make ya fitted spin
Yeah!

[Intro to verse 3]
(teambackpack . net)
Hold up
Now you know is your boy, Denzil Porter
Rappers in that Bronx, New York
The Bronx, New York can't forget the "the"
Forgot the "the" last time, teambackpack

[Verse 3: Denzil Porter]
2 38 white plains, represent the north side
Big 34 5 hidden behind that door prize
If I ain't in the building
Probably too small of a door size
Been killing rappers behind these bars
Probably get more time

So sour while I soar by
No church, but I got royal ties
Then they kid nap, you get kidnapped
And then thin maggots tell wall flies
What they gon' do
When I put two 38's up
Like the score's tied
Most of the openers in your state
Should've been tour guys

I don't force mine
Be elevatin' people
Like I'm the fourth kind
Two-face n***as, no difference
I'm looking all 4 eyes
Yeah we heard ya
Just look like a burger
With all them small fries
You're a kid's meal
I need your whole city
I need it all mine

No matter where you reside or rest
You'll snap back fitted
I make sure you heard of mine
Like: "that's that cat that did it"
You feelin' froggy then ribbit
You wanna scrap, let's get it
Just know my homies come packed
Like that hatch back civic, BUT YOU!

Just a regular life
By the way your crew is ass
We should call you cellu-light
I can't bitch about my problems
I know dudes that do life
I know they wished they had my problems
So for you I do right

But if you do wanna meet my boots
I might go back to my roots
N***as claim that they got the wisdom
That's the back of your tooth
N***as claim they spit that real shit
But what they lacking is truth
Papa's a rolling stone
But I leave my hat in a booth
Meet him at the loot

And I'm just not the one stand to
Shine so bright, theirs can't move
Box with all fours like a kangaroo
Near-death Is just a sample of my wrath
So far ahead of my path
Is what I can do
Y'all couldn't pick up speed
Even if it came with a handle

Click-click, came to jam you
Have you jammin' and you
Let's keep jammin' like [?]
With good rapping and bamboo
Getting pounds like hands do
Staying fresh like canned food
That bitch think she the shit
See what all them rears do

Can't stand dudes
That's why I'm in and out of their homes
Spoiling these bitches
Expect them to be strong on their own
All in they phones
Searching, tryin' to see what all her letters 'bout
If fourth down, she wanna kick it
Just to spread it out?

They say stay in your lane
But I'm taking that
Find a better route
Life's a bitch
Tied up in my basement
I won't let her out
When I get in the building, they piss
They gettin' ratted out
Cause n***as must've thought the were sick
They're feeling better now
It's Porter

[Intro to verse 4]
(teambackpack . net)
I go by the name Vi Seconds
The red one himself
I ain't got much to say
I just came to rap

[Verse 4: Shizzy Sixx/Vi Seconds]
Momma always told me to watch the way I operate
Well if I catch you eatin
Best believe that Imma cop your plate
Out to cop the top estate
In the hottest state
Since your eyeballs and my balls
Cuz I ball, tell me how these taste

I’ll molly wop your face
Then get blood on my loose leaf
Your broad came in new jeans
Then she came with bruised knees
If I could manifest these bars through a person
It’s Bruce Lee
I’m hearing they love the new me
From people that never knew me

The pristine problem
I’m poppin', you play possum
The dominant, prominent
With a punch I unearth fossils
A powerful sovereign
Known sweetheart, if you’ve met me
Wavy with the illest cuts
That’s Sweeney Todd on a jet ski

Beams on, if it sees y'all
You’ll begone to the next week
These retards will get launched off a see saw
They test me
I’m a heavy wieght, y'all light
Mad cause you can’t off me
All these flavors to choose from
But you choose to be salty

Uh, That’s a damn shame
I slam dames in the fast lane
I’m blastin it at ya gas tank
And that’s word to my last name
Ask Ab Soul
Lyrical asshole
Addicted to rappin' and smash bros
I’m ill
You can’t buy respect
So you can miss me with your cash flows

Need a tassel
Alumni, you reaching to be an undergrad
You still think you can see me?
Honestly boy, it’s fucking sad
Reach for the sky
I guess being honest
This is a promise
If you reach for the star
You gettin' struck with a comet
Comitted to this homicide
This thing by my side spits
Suicide Sixx the highest
Grade of dope
To glide in your sinus, the finest
Refer to me as your highness
So I’m really killing y'all
Fuck killing y'all with kindness
Red