T.D.E. - BET Hip-Hop Awards Cypher | Текст песни

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• T.D.E.
• BET Hip-Hop Awards Cypher

[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 boom the ghetto bird ya shot down
Straight to the top now, they want a third strike on my background
But nah homie, put the mask on when I slide on ‘em
Put the cash 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 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 pa pa, I be her da da
Coochie smacking, give praise to Allah
Get blazed in my car, Oxymoron

[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 shotty to 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 go at us, you going fuckin’ 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 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 west in 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

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