Now that you’ve witnessed Kendrick Lamar’s Cypher verse (Control Pt. 2?), it’s time to de-cypher it. The verse was incredibly complex. Many shots were fired—some specific, some general. Take a look at the Cypher and lyrics below and see if you can crack the Da Vinci code. Before you get to it though, prepare yourself for some serious heat from Schoolboy Q, Jay Rock, Ab-Soul and TDE’s newest member, Isaiah Rashad. HiiiPower, indeed…

Here are the lyrics:

I hate y’all
I’d do anything to replace y’all
Shout out to Facemob
A ghetto boy till I’m unemployed with a day job
And kickin’ boxes
I kick ass and then kick knowledge
I’m way more polished than 99% of the scholars you thought had graduated
I’m the master that masturbated on your favorite MC until the industry had wanted me assassinated
You either corny or an opportunist
I let you eat now go back to church and steal crackers at communion
What are we doin’? I’m ‘bout to crack the Da Vinci code
Yeah, ain’t nothin’ been the same since they dropped Control and tucked the sensitive rapper back in his pajama clothes
Haha, joke’s on you
Hi-five (clap), I’m bulletproof
Your shots will never penetrate
Pin a tail on a donkey, boy, you been a fake
I got my thumb on Hip-Hop and my foot in the back of yo’ ass
Aftermath gets the last laugh
I serve niggas like Master Geoffrey, jump on this curb
Turn the shotty to a verb if you let me, you know I’m a killa
I’m on your head, you know I’m a killa
The West Coast Costra Nostra
Under oath till it’s over, you over owe us
So what the fuck, I’ll fuck you niggas up, I’ll fuck you niggas up
She suck and fuck, I fuck and duck you fuck niggas like when I want
You go at us you goin’ fuckin’ nuts
Actin’ irrational, pop you then pop an Adderall
You know the drill, like a lateral, nigga
I’m more Pappy Mason than Pastor Mason
Pacin’ back and forth racin’ my thoughts on embracin’ Daytons
I spilt blood on my apron cookin’ this shit up
I feel like some of y’all is hatin’
Quite frankly yo’ bitch’s booty should thank me for grabbin’ it
Turn these hoodrats to actresses, what a magic trick
Accidents never happen when murder’s involved
Immaculate tactics so follow me
If you need me just call on me
I say “Hold up. Wait a minute.”
Yo’ career ain’t shit unless you got some Kendrick in it
You pussies ain’t shit and no room that’s left on my dick
Unless you look like Jordin Sparks, make my mark on that clitoris (mwah)
Hollywood’s been good to me
Lil hood nigga, used to pawn Mom’s jewelry
Family jewels big as fuck and I got the balls to say it
Balls deep, ballin’ out, till Spalding need a replacement
I’m ou’chea, the West in yo’ mouth, dyeah
Invest in a vest or Vietnam vet when you out near
The white court building, spillin’ its Merlot filling women, a virgo
Pimped the industry, mimic these Stacey Adams and fur coats
Shook, you’re scared to death, you’re scared to look in the mirror
When Kendrick is near ya
King Kendrick…

Related: Kendrick Lamar: Nice Guys Finish First…But Not By Playing Nice (Food For Thought)