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ScHoolboy Q

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Yo sourmilk, what up brah
Justin credible, I hear you on the radio every night brah
This one for l.a. Leakers, turn me up
Shit, nigga don't be always, rapping on nigga's shit
This shit too groovy though, nigga had to get some
Smoking these backwoods, nigga
Touch the sky on the real nigga
Fig side, fig side
Fig side

Niggas out here chasing these hoes
My motivation, only switching up flows, nigga
And getting this dough
Studio with just me an my weed
Cause y'all tee'd
Fronting and brown nosing while asking questions
Trynna figure what I'm doing next
Can't you see I'm working
Mom's sick and says she needs a surgeon
Clothes dirty, and she need detergent

How the fuck that suppose to make me feel?
Shit is real, I just seen kendrick make a mil
Without a deal, just hard work and dedication
Ambition, and motherfucker I can't be waiting
You know what I'm saying, too many options on this land
But y'all don't hear me though
Went from "gimme" to more than twenty racks a month
I ain't rich, but I can stunt
Never wear it more than once

Smoking blunt after blunt
Eating lunch after brunch
Joy getting bigger now, and yeah that's my nigga
Even though sometimes, got to beat her ass
But she knows daddy's soft, spite she's screaming "fuck crash"
Ridding with my baby and we screaming "fuck that"
My daughter want more, so she be getting 3 a show
So this other bread can blow
What you saving for?
You know?
(And by the way sir, this fendi shirt's a go)

Just because there's more to it than music, you understand?
Niggas gotta have the whole package nowadays
Get a whip, get a chain
Less rapping nowadays
Where you from? You don't bang
Niggas actin' nowadays
All trappin' nowadays
Fake luger beat, bmf'ing nowadays
Man, you niggas are crazy
Dropped a record, got some bread, and went lazy
All the hoes say we wavy like the navy
Young dope niggas crackin' like the eighties

Fig side, sucka niggas can't fade me
Want the broccoli and the cheese, shit is gravy
Bucket hat made her wanna have my baby
Thoroughly popping from here to overseas
Fan feel us more cause they know we’re fucking g’s
On the radio, but are you buzzing? Nigga please
Just kilt a show in miami, let’s feel the breeze
Follow me, I’ll show you how we feast
Hit the lab and never leave for weeks, you weak
Must got your rhyme book at the lost and found, a clown
Hottest out
Me, rocky, danny brown

The crown
Move over because you’re finished
Tde push the limit, we locking it for a minute
Car service take me where ever
She bobbin’ because it’s tinted
Freak-a-leak, do it ‘til I skeet
Hit her with my signature at meet and greet
Fucking all from being me, it’s nothing though
You use to floss your bread, acting like you up, but now you broke
It’s nothing though

Shit ain’t up to par, now you wishing for a star
Hoping gotta go too far, cause he ain’t
Answering your goddamn calls
Blame the jealousy come out your jaws
Your whole project was a goddamn flaw
Your album sales proves you’re not that hard
You getting crucified on these damn blogs
Cause you don’t got bars, and you don’t got heart
And you got no skill
More on top is trash hooks, man you get that deal

I can smell your ass from here bruh, you not that ill
Getting stealed, they say you only talk about pills
Weed, money, bitches, hoes, sluts, hookers and butts
But what about that kid on the bus
When I met him, he didn’t have much
Told me his life was on stuck, couldn’t get over that hump
Until my record dropped and it bumped
Told me blessed was his favorite one, followed by that I’m the one
So I dapped him and gave my nigga a hug
He teary-eyed, saying there shit he had to overcome
I wish I still remember homie’s name
I wanna know if he knew he was giving game
Go harder in this game

Yo, shout out to my nigga that was
In new york, that I’m talking about
I really ain’t got no bars, I be tellin’ niggas that
Like, he really wasn’t on the bus, that nigga was at the show
I just said bus ‘cause I needed to rhyme and shit
Told you I ain’t got no bars
But yo, shout out to my nigga though

Real game, nigga
We gonna get this shit
Fig side, fig side
Soulo next, nigga
Shit ain’t done homie
Fig side

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  • Guilherme Vieira

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