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[Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q] Uh, Most of these niggas shouldn't be next to us We keep our distance from those, those acting like hoes Zany imposed, weed in my clothes, cubics is gold Ya wig'll get told, put the realest niggas Niggas, product of cap pillers, gangbangers and dealers Streets keep watching, aye, [click](undefined) boom the ghetto bird ya shot down Straight to the top now, they want a third strike on my [background](undefined) But nah homie, put the mask on when I [slide](undefined) on em Put the [cash](undefined) in the safe and here's a extra slug for I shake Ya smoke faster than me with a eighth Or better yet a [wet](undefined) break on a plate Burning ya faith, all senses covered in tape Fuckin' with them boys in blue, chill out for rags at you You running to the cops saying: How we do? Saying it's just rap and them lines ain't true So I just threw Q, fuck it, menage a two or maybe trois Baby girl need a [pot](undefined) pie, I be her da da Coochie smacking, give praise to Allah Get blazed in my car, Oxymoron [Verse 2: Jay Rock] Rock got it, rock came from rock bottom Sparked the flames, still remain as a top shotta I ain't no backpack rapper, I ain't no lyricist And if he ain't talking to you mind ya business then SongtexteCold with it, Black Hippie, yeah we cold niggas All the girlies love us, get a whiff of us They bones quiver, heard some clown throwing stones at us Holding boulders champ once you hear that YAWK. watching domes shatter It's Top Dawg we runnin' rap, whack rappers, feline Reason why we don't run with cats, nine double O five nine - Where my family at Pull up in that [family van](undefined) holding 2's like the handyman And to be real not with all this rapping politickin' Rapper competition, wrapped up my position 'Til I'm finished, Til I make a couple tickets Then I'm outtie on them islands with my crimmies chillin' Hide ya feelings, now can I [live](undefined)? Look I gotta keep my feet on top of the dirt 'Cause everywhere I go they like when you dropping some work? Been a threat since birth The rap game's pallbearer when I'm droppin' the Hearst I ain't new to this, I'm true to this Industry's nightmare, red strings in my Nike Air's Yeah, the white pair, I'm Jay Rock, America's most wanted My chargers? Killing MC's without warning Rock! [Verse 3: Ab Soul] It's Ab-Soul, gimme the loot, I'm the skinny Biggie In New York City with Puffy, puffing the sticky All eyes against me, still even the score Prolly why I'm always OT on tour TDE, believe me we want war I don't even know what piece I like most no more Two fingers, Two triggers, What's the difference? We all gon' die one day until then I'm gettin' paid My grandma watching so I ain't gon' curse Still gifted like a Wale verse, backwood full of OG Bobby Johnson medicine in my soul to trynna dodge the coffin, Ah And these days are so [bitter sweet](undefined) I guess it's just a balance we battle naturally And y'all still trippin' off of Jay-Z tweets I still got laps to run when me and Jay-Z meet Peep Soul brother number 2 The first one used to make beats for CL Smooth Top got the s550 but the CL smooth And rolling weed is the only time I see L's move Soul! [Verse 4: Isaiah Rashad] Ay, I think I found my second home Sunny California and it's ya little nigga brother You ain't meant for corners, it's what they told me So I never looked back, I got a slut in the [back](undefined) [Fattest](undefined) [elephant](undefined) ass, so we flirt in the path Passing propellers I tell her, tell her we flying just listen See we [diamond](undefined) just shining and they gon' find us glistening Brought sand to the beach and we left with ya bitchh For the [record](undefined) in Guinness I'm a hecklin' menace Where is Robin, I'm Given' Fuckin' minding my business He a regular victim, us regular in women Uh, regular niggas, you always cater to sluts You always wasting my time, you always faking the funk I'm put ya muthafuckin' dream in ya face You keep lookin' for some women to be all in ya face That deep dussy reach niggas, keep dussy That Tennessee dussy make a nigga be dussy You can never rap better than me, 'cause you ain't dedicated You ain't underrated, you ain't under looked You ain't overbooked, you just under cooked It's supposed to be me and my niggas in the [record](undefined) [book](undefined) Now they got by myself still fresh as fuck [Verse 5: Kendrick] I hate y'all, I'd do anything to replace y'all,shout out to Face Mob A ghetto boy til I'm unemployed with a day job And kicking 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 ya favorite MC 'Til 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 I been doing? I'm about to crack the Da Vinci Code, yeah Yeah, and nothing's been the same since they dropped Control And tucked a sensitive rapper back in his pajama clothes Ha-ha, joke's on you, high-five 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 get the last laugh I serve niggas like Master Geoffrey Jump on this curb turn a shot in a verb if you let me You know I'm a killer, I'm on ya head, you know I'm a killa The West Coast cosa nostra under oath til it's over Ya over owe us so what the fuck? I fuck you niggas up, I fuck you niggas up, she suck and fuck I fuckin' duck you fuckin' niggas like when I want You going dutch, you going fuckkin' nuts Acting irrational, pop you then pop an Adderall Know the drill like a lateral, nigga I'm more Pappy Mason than Pastor Mason Pacing [back](undefined) and forth, racing my thoughts on embracing data I spilled blood on my apron cooking this shit up I feel like some of y'all is hating Quite frankly ya bitch booty should thank me for grabbing it Turn these hoodrats to actresses, what a magic trick? Accidents never happen when murder's involved Emaculate tactics so follow me, if you need me just call on me I say Hold up wait a minute Your career ain't shit less you got some Kendrick in it Ya pussy ain't shit, ain't no rumors left on my dick 'Less you look like Jordin Sparks, make my mark on the cunt, muah Hollywood's been good to me little 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 And I'm outchea, the rest of your mouth chea Invest in a vest, a Vietnam vet when you out near The White court building spilling its Merlot Fillin' a woman, pimp the industry Remember these Stacy Adams and furcoats, shook Ya scared to death, scared to look in the mirror when Kendrick is near ya King Kendrick Aus Songtexte Mania