links phonix and some other shit
this is just a small excerpt from the ongoing cypher thread in the GT forum, all quick ideas feeding off each other...
http://www.rapflava.com/forums/gt-cypher-117326.html (GT cypher)
Once again, this is what we cypher, wait til the collab drops...
Vulgar
It's been awhile, here to aid the Arctic ancients
One man stands below a growing tropic wasteland
Saber befuddled, Phade in the struggle
Geographical knowledge only goes as far as a Tanzanian jungle
The beast is laid and nourished - save the forests
Like is like, beyond a clever language form
Never tame the storm, I don't drink coffee, rally the rong
Yugoslavian prime ministers who think along the lines of algae and moss
Recovery guarenteed.
Saber
So you better save yourself and shave your Shelltoes
Before abrasive elbows laced with laser rays trace your face and swelled nose
I mean, it's the save-the-day, light-gunner clique
Saber's insane, it's a nature-thang to type suttin' slick
Matter fact, I'm on some razor-blade, white-knuckle shit
Mics buckle, from the Papermate Write Bros. Grip
You ever seen harder multies and vocab?
For starters, skullies get toe-tagged, scarred and bloodied with no practice
I've charred the gulliest known bastards when sparkin' rugged-speech flow patterns
When GT's barkin', buddy, the chrome SHATTERS
Ya'll some starvin' tounge-in-cheek coke addicts, I mean
Ya'll just aren't as funny, we know that shit...
Phade
im known to smoke hash bricks, zone and blow back cliques
to stone age, so fuck if ya chrome unload mag clips
it's sticks, stones and cold tact, rip clones off the bozak
skullies get toe tagged, but shit, holmes you know that (word mal)
Chronologic
Flying daggers cutting the airwaves through silent laughter.
Death threat? Nah, just cement head rests and spinals shattered.
Writing after Chron you'll reach your final path with God.
We rhymesayers that climb lasers so watch your crying ass get popped
It's colliding pads of bronze. An ongoing power struggle.
Held with one hand while I jot poems that pass the Hubble.
Chron fold? I'll catch your bluff dude while exerting my massive muscle.
Strike with the power of Sun Tzu. cause lightning showers with gun grooves.
In the dirtiest slums sipping wine with African punk groups.
My spits ain't worthy for tongues. The illest minor's having your lunch, fool.
Spit malignant puns which emcee's opposing the calvalry?
Young, I'll have ten geeks but holes in your backwards fleet.
Got inactive sheets compared to Barque masterpieces.
Murdering video-games to underground blasting demons.
Not comparable. So when I stare at you there won't be any glaring dude..
One-million flares'll shoot and impair your troops.
Saber
GT is real hip-hip, no preservatives
Open tourniquets and make eels lip-lock with steel flip-flops
Chron is back in the buildin', bombin' rappers with skill when
On tracks, we jot facts then Comcast 'em to children
Fuck you spare-time hood-rats, I freeflow slang
And ya gonna need Rogaine when ya hairline's pushed back
Breathe propane and bleed tracks; The Vinyl Sacrafice
With each rap, plus I feed-back like spinal parasites
My style's Paradise Lost and after-life lawsuits
It's GT - There's no one left to pass the mic off to
Phade
I can still tell when a crew tried to rip in cyphers
from the residue where sweaty palms gripped the mic first
cause if you spit a tight verse, I'll kick a vacuum flow
straight until the pipes burst, and the rhythm track implodes
if still you rappers don't get the picture, I'll spit it at
warp speed to hit you and force feed the pixels
I spark weed to riff and spit positive and calming
don't make me have to split a wig like a middle parting
Vulgar
Deliver hardening ice, it's the call of
The wild, alive, brownish hue, Bob Marley's aura
Galaxies afar - The GT armies march,
We're going to breathe steam in this non-godly sauna
Ode to the mutating women through breast tubes
With the land under my feet again I can speak in dead tunes
Awaken a dead booth,
Instructional Step 2
Saber
Instructional Step 2:
Dim fuckers get flesh wounds in comfortable restrooms
Malphunxion'll knock you back to the Twin Brothers of Neptune
I'll sky-rocket a missile through ya eye-socket and tissue
I'm live, rockin' official with rhymes dotted in Timb boots
Each line blotches and rips huge shrine monoliths in two
And slams Guy Fawkes through the side-swatches of tin roofs
Phade
we night watchmen that spit truth to rip a clone
lit a cone, old school like fuck a mic, pass the dictaphone
ima kick sick rhymes to the brink of armageddon
armor gettin hot, hoodie stink of marijuana, sweat n
bloody ink from my fingertips, yall reakin of fear
speakin it clear - GT cypher, the piece of the year
Saber
Ya'll prob think Jesus is here
But God thinks demons live here
Victory's sweet; so's that hot-pink piece of ya ear
All bets're off - Phade bloodies ya fuckin' lips
The funny shit's you'd prolly pay money to suck our dicks
It's butter-slick - So take due-time to ration gauze, bitch
Before Vulgar makes you die of natural causes
And mine's on the paper like pipe-bomb plans
While me and Phade syphon the vapors from Krylon cans
Vulgar
Oxygen kings of the typing cyphers,
Scorched meadows blacken the ripened cyprus
And the snowstorm forcefield overtakes the fighter pilot
Baggage overload - to survive we must discard
Our belongings, longing to move towards the tower of mud and straw
Yeah, we've come this far,
But not far enough beyond the global scale of the hundredth star
Blame the aromatic artillery root, jazz saxon physics
Holiday spirit dimmed down due to candlewax diminishing
We could just blame MTV, I blame magnetism
Saber
I blame magnetism, when switchblades're aimed at the prism
Group Therapy: Spit stains and trained masochism
The candlewax's diminishing
It's sandle-straps and the little things
That leave anvils smashed 'til the planet acts as a spit-syringe
That's why my phlegm is multinational
I'll bend ya skullie back and fuse
A God complex to your neck, it's gully; Heaven's ugly attributes
... While my brethren fuckin' laugh at you
I'm quite sick, like "Bitch, the nightstick might split
Ya face in half if you fake with rap or type sHiT LiKe tHiS!"
Phade
silver tongued magneto on the beat, spoke a crow bar
still atoms attract back to where plastic moulded clones are
its krylon in the tear ducts, belton laced veins
fat caps for fingertips, shelltoes paint stained
blast hash to cinders and ignite the light vapours,
with rhyme phade's the force like nike airs n lightsabers
raps obi wan kenobi, best act like you know me son
haters gettin tee's shot, the way i put a hole in one
hold a gun? my steez pre schoolers
you'll still feel stupid needin' sutres from a fuckin' pee shooter
i spit with mach force velocity, studied in
back door philosophy, majored in rap raw with honors,
rainbow pallette saliva, grab that pen
to spit and bring careers to an abstract end
Saber
The Abstract Ender - Vocal Haz-Mat embers
So pay a visit to your local gasmask vendor
You die tonight, player
We're stabbing backs with iodine sabers
Phade spits laughing gas with syanide vapors
Smoke's clouded within the gold crowns of The Kings
Shrapnel to skulls
It's natural for Vul to make you go out on a limb
No doubt, our jazz tones is smashin chrome teeth
The masters known to crack ya bones with a saxophone piece
Vulgar
The type to give your dad a nose bleed
On one of those late Sunday picnics - a late run to finish
Beneath the latin bombshell's undergarments, lily breadth pads
Phade with the airplane food - who ordered the jet lag?
"He has an endangered beetle!" everybody get back
While rappers use elemental decor, it's preferentially borders of Crest Ads
Neutral area: Our living quarters, nest sap
THE OUTPOST,
When I lay to rest on layers of wet grass
Saber
... the three best rappers alive!
We weave fresh patterns of rhymes on each head
And leave stress fractures inside
Ya'll bout as funny Dane Cook stand-up
You're fake, shook, can't bust and bout to getcha playbook slammed shut
The henchmen of Spec. Ops, bench-pression red dots
Over ya head, fucker
Who's the next sucker destined to get shot?
Loud-mouths get sprayed, shit's hot
Leave ya outhouse in flames
The fucking Kings
Do the Muslim thing; just bow down and pray
Phade
this a cypher circle, so i spit roundhouse and haymakers
act down to save face cause these hounds out to lay waste
to a tastless recital, vulgar makes us recycle
you'll die like aim cyphers when saber goes idle
Vulgar
I was never one for religious ritual,
Pagan reciters gather alongside the makers of bible
Stone upon water as this message wasn't made to decipher
Sound the church bells for the core of the dream
GT - armed with the Parliament scheme to crush your Varsity team
I don't brag, we just let the magnets pulse back
Bring back the stone fragments and toe tags
Guide the way with ant-eaters and the antlers of a snow stag
Saber
Friggin brandishin a chrome gat...
Spittin cancer in the phone-jack
Like, "Who's ya daddy, BITCHES?! ANSWER OR GET BLOWN BACK!!!"
Welcome to the gelatin Green Mile
It's Hell-ish, but meanwhile, sniper bombs drop
And the cypher's on lock with skeleton keystyles
Phade
the new troops, tearin the piece down in zoot suits
steppin to me now? better hope that vest's nuke proof
cause I reduce crews to carbon,
back in my day, I used ta cut my teeth on samurai blades
we old/new school, so pardon the razor gleam glinted
bushido blades in the cypher with lazer beams fitted
Saber
The paper's seams split with a razor-clean finish
Flava's scene's littered with bodies from Saber's free-writtens
Oddly enough, I keep murderin' text
You'll feel a sting-raise in ya chest like Steve Irwin at death
And bleed purple and red, the beat's burnin ya flesh
Deep and clean
While people scream, "We need tourniquets, MEDS!"
Signing release papers, we're silencing peace-makers
It's too cannibalistic
The Group's handling business, minus the briefcases
Phade
dismantle your click with pure animal instincts
sabertooth in the puma shoes, blastin a spliff quick
bust caps whether fitted, curved or flat
spit a verse of rap
at cats claimin they new era, oh now you turnin back?
it's crucial we destroyin every crew's soul
SUE ME
we split the judge wig and hang lawyers by the loopholes
spit that rough shit never grip and bust clips
im on my swan song, you just a sittin duck kid
all natural, fuck guns as a fail safe backup
only time i bust slugs is at a snail paced rapper
to be continued...
users 
Group Therapy Cypher 
Linear Mode
