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Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
[Verse 1: Kendrick Lamar] Yeah Its that West HOO HA!! Back Pack Raps Where gats say they don't get your peeled by the black men Its K-dot thorough bred Move like a militant Soldier, on point like a pyramid Force to be reckoned with Fuck with the best shit Like the strongest maneuver I'm ready when you are This is it, I'm in the lab cooking up all day Fuck them up all day Like a nympho , I've been dope since S curl waves Trying to convince hoes I got good hair You know damn well there's chemicals there I'm in the hood with the 17 year olds that's on hood patrol And they want stripes so they shoot off bikes And you know any moment you could lose your life So kiss your kids and hug your wife Or what not Yo I spar with a dragon It tried to throw a flame, but I ducked and I stabbed him Came out the battle laughin' That's a metaphor for any rapper who want it I smack them 'till they nose is runnin' You know the hoes is coming if I'm there And the hoes is coming Once we hit the hotel There's no assumption Cool out before I move out I bone a 105 Do about 105 Before your ass get threw out The backseat There's a dead guy on the freeway Ohh its not dot? Tell the medics its ok A beast with a beat break You probably think I'm dope Like it's the realist shit I wrote But to me it's a throw away Stare at the four walls and rap like I'm mad at god Nice enough to throw a spear at Nas Launched at Jay Matter fact let me take that back See I don't fuck with real legends in rap Like you do I'm crucial Concealed by real crips and soo-woops And they shoot Like photography students When beef gets to brewin' [Hook] Is it real son Is it really real son Is it really real son Is it really real Tell me how you feel son Tell me how you feel son Tell me how you feel son Tell me how you feeeeel You rap pussies got nothing for me Once (I'm sound wave recording?) Every MC I'm sure to rip them I guarantee you will forget them [Verse 2: Ab Soul] Come again No introduction you know my name Soul brother You suck the juice from my ding-a-ling Orangutan arms banging niggas like a set When I speech they fucking silent Like sex for the deaf Violence I play it like violins in a orchestra Chew you like vitamins then spit you back out Like a verse I had way back Before I had mapped out Rip a page out the almanac To cross reference When I wreck shit I wish jaw bone fractures On all of you rappers Bumping your gods Like the measles When the record meets the needle Hands spinnin'like a 12 inch Smoking the best (lt?) Like I shot every bird Follow my word Big heard Ill with it I need a hospital gown You need 54 cards Deal with it You may think I'm killing it But I'm healing it Like a bitch in the club Shoot game Two chains [Verse 3: Punch] Ayo yo The flow poet Who more focused Kick doors open Delivering the golden (?) Leave with two guns smoking It's me The podium closing poet Well spoken It (grows?) the most consistent With imminent penmanship Mind bending coexisting with the written verbal assassin Eternally smashin', spazzin' on tracks Translation I'm disgusting in action Lyrical gluten with bustin' over sound waves production Y'all want nothin' The sum of all fears Mercury risin' I'm summer all year I (16?) them to death And wish them the best I guess that's the gift and the curse You see my pattern and Y'all still rapping Like that's whats happenin' I write rhymes Put fire on stone tablets Peep the (malice?) I'm a monster Your boy running like Like William Joseph Crawford [Hook] Is it real son Is it really real son Is it really real son Is it really real Tell me how you feel son Tell me how you feel son Tell me how you feel son Tell me how you feeeeel You rap pussies got nothing for me Once (I'm sound wave recording?) Every MC I'm sure to rip them I guarantee you will forget them [Verse 4: Kendrick Lamar] Haaaa (?) up (no kid hate up?) Put rappers in quick sand Dot leaned on them like kickstands Im so hot Kids put me on their ipod Even atheists play my shit And say my God, Jesus Joseph and Mary he's nice Don't compare me to them Just Compare me to Mike Jordan when I'm recordin' The verse and the chorus is ill You can land in the lap of fortune when biting my skills Playa' Watch as I lay up Bar after bar Like I'm trying to build a gate up See me on the way up Like an elevator I'm gonna let you take the stairs That metaphor meaning I'm already there Greatness I'm in the booth with an apron Cooking up shit like Martha Stewart was my bitch Amen Stay on the curve like a (?) Blowing herb with my nigga (earl?) Fuck what you niggas heard We that new westcoast wu tang Bitch and I'm the best Think less you can suck my dick Who from the west can kill it like us Give me they name And I'ma take them to the house of pain Top Dawg headquarters Haaa [Hook: Backround] Is it real son Is it really real son Is it really real son Is it really real Tell me how you feel son Tell me how you feel son Tell me how you feel son Tell me how you feeeeel You rap pussies got nothing for me Once (I'm sound wave recording?) Every MC I'm sure to rip them I guarantee you will forget them |