[ScHoolboy Q]
|
Uh, go hard for the squad like, bam!
|
Spray with a stain on it (shit)
|
Flamed out the nozzle, at it full throttle
|
Acting hyena, black ninas
|
Uh, it's young niggas heating up Phoenix
|
Top Dawg familiar, crept with a Dillinger
|
in my fifth pocket, chump niggas stop it
|
Say you pressing who? Fuck around and get a tattoo
|
Have me dumping out the sunroof
|
Consequences you done ran through
|
Caught his ass slipping looking pretty in them sandals
|
Keep the gangster to the streets, you know the shit was handled
|
Ten speed, handle bar shit, Astro fit
|
Hopped off with a message in a clip
|
Inbox read (third verse), hitting till the third
|
I'll be back up on the curb, what's the word, word, word, word, word?
|
|
[Chorus: Ab-Soul (ScHoolboy Q)]
|
We continue to bring you
|
nothing but that true gang-
|
-ster shit you can move to, groove to, ooooh
|
(What's the word? What's the word? What's the word?)
|
We continue to bring you
|
nothing but that true shit, G shit
|
|
[Jay Rock]
|
Never had much, always had heart
|
Always had guts, I don't give a fuck
|
I ride like a bus, heavy with my flows
|
while my niggas in the spot, heavy with the blow
|
Plenty niggas broke, plenty homicides
|
Plenty mommas cry, yeah we wonder why
|
Stress on my thoughts, blowing weed out my jaws
|
Four-five niggas riding five deep in the car
|
Choppers in the trunk, choppers in the front
|
Catch a nigga slipping, then we taking what we want
|
Gang affiliated, a lot of niggas hating
|
cause a nigga red, steady beaming like a laser
|
Product of my environment, can't help where I came from
|
Watts, California where a nigga got his game from
|
Name from, what it do? Go ahead and blaze one
|
Be patient my nigga, we gon' ball when the day come
|
Disrespect the click, then I guess we gotta take one
|
Haters throw salt, so I guess we gotta shake something
|
I guess we gotta shake something
|
Haters throw salt, so I guess we gotta shake something
|
So what's the word?
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[ScHoolboy Q]
|
Uh, young 50, raw central kid
|
Macks near fucking lose your lip
|
Probably see me on Figg, 81 bus stop
|
Liquor stores and, hooker whores and, needle poison
|
Uh, everybody crooked
|
Lights out, shooting ranges, shit is dangerous
|
Keep your shoes tied motherfucker
|
Shit, it gets live motherfucker, shit's real
|
Get your ass trampled in the field
|
Youngin, should have let your muscle build
|
Broken jaws, and them stars be the evidence
|
Just another nigga tatted up upon my abdomen
|
Y'all squabbles, gang meetings, set functions
|
Have my shit bumping
|
Mid-central and Wayside stay jumping, we riding out
|
Middle finger, fuck the law, shoot they momma's house, hahah
|
That's the word
|
|
[Chorus]
|
|
[Ab-Soul]
|
G shit
|
G shit
|
G shit
|
We continue to bring you
|
|
-----------------
|
What's The Word
|
| Schoolboy Q |