bet cypher
BET get your recorders
You rockin' with the Ghost, Papoose and Lupe the skateboarder
Welcome to the Cipher, the beginnin' of rap
Before record deals, first I'm gonna toss it to Pap
Over one hundred soldiers died this month, I drop info
Out of a hundred, the majority was negroes
George Bush is on a roll like a round hero
They still findin' human remains at Ground Zero
They found 'em in the sewers, yeah it shows
Aww man yo, I guess that's why they call it a manhole
When we say B.E.T we ain't tryna spell bet
Black Entertainment, Papoose is the best
Nacirema wait 'till my album drop
He hop up I clap him in his hip, you can call it hip-hop
Rappers be actin' like they tougher then they really is
So I sit 'em in wheelchairs like Jada Pinkett kids
You was puttin' your sneakers on the wrong feet when Papoose was reppin' for the streets
Might as well face your defeat, look patna
I'll have you lookin at defeat like a foot doctor
That's right
They say the game has the belly of a beast
Blunts for fingers and hollow tips for teeth
Wire taps for ears Nike Airs for feet
Blasphemy for prayers the system for a heart
Rap music for beats heroin for the son and he's married to the streets
Crack pipes for lungs, and he never sleeps just spies with dice in his eyes
Love life cause he like when it dies
With baking soda soul he cough up pleasure
Clothes made out of dollar bills that he sewed together, he knows he's clever
Jail is his house, all the liquor that pours out and goes right in his mouth
Rides around on a stray bullet
With prostitute, pimp, dope dealers and killers tied to it to pull it
TV in his head, strippers slide down his legs
And he known to ride around with the Feds
He's out there 
Don't call me Ghost no more call me The Phantom
Real brothers love him, street brothers understand him
This is to the man with his hand on his Cannon
Right at this moment I know we need an atonement
The Malcolm is dead, the Martin is dead
The guns, the barber, let me know who want a part in their head
And I am back to the clip fill to the top
I'll grill with a bop, police comin' through kids steal a rock
I don't give an F cause I wanna die cause I am gonna die
You to figure, don't boo who figure
Want to the play the game find out who's who figure
After you do that, find out who's true figure
Lots of brothers died over BS, nonsense
School of hard-knocks, no parent teacher conference
Got to learn the rules real fast, move fast
Stand up and mash shortie, cause they know that you ass
Yeah that's hip-hop
Before there was radio, before there were videos, before there were magazines
Put the camera down this what it was
The cipher three hundred sixty degrees, the cipher
Show you cats how to rhyme man, take that 