Schoolboy Q - Attention lyrics
Schoolboy Q [Quincy Matthew Hanley] Wiesbaden, West Germany/South Central LA, CA, U.S. 🇩🇪 🇺🇸
[Schoolboy Q - Attention lyrics]
Ain't worried glidin' through the air, ain't
Cautious, yeah, yeah, yeah
Mind on the ground, ain't dreamin'
Thing on my waist been leanin', yeah, yeah
Yeah hustle for a job
They still ain't called back
Dope in the hood ain't movin' like that, uh
Chain and your watch, I need all that
All that m's in the bank, I need all that
So run it, mane
Front row at the Grammys
I'm getting praises from Jay
Fuck about this award
I'm happy he know my name
Favorite rapper Nas been told me
That I'm the best
Had a couple sessions with Dre
Knew I would win
Alchemist my favorite producer
And he my friend
All this love from the greats
Put my passion in pen
Let me tell you 'bout this
Story, when Quincy died, it had started
I left jail on house arrest and
Now ever since I've been starvin'
You know pain on my mama's face when
The opps can call me a loser
Ain't achieve shit
Her son quit sports to become a Crip
'Nother single mother that failed
Lost her son in the mix
Workin' hard through all her problems
Her son just couldn't be fixed
Got off house arrest
Sprinkled some orange in my blue shoes
Nigga, ask Traffic, Baby Deuce, yeah
And T too
Baby Love, Baby Spank, Big Spank, Big Fool
The first Figg Side originals
You ain't gotta recruit
Tony Smack, Floyd, G-Scrap, nigga
The main crew
Flossy B was locked in, but was normal
He came through nigga, 51st and Figg
On the corner Mayhem was slaughtered
Months later like the shit ain't happen
I'm with my daughter
At the laundromat, the shots rang off
I ducked to the back
Wishin' for a strap but hear
More fire from Tiny Rat
Got the devil on my side while
The Lord been pushin' me over
I can finally understand why my
Uncles was never sober
Deadbeat dad on the gas, that gas my motor
Either grab the mic, nigga
Grab the same pistola
I can easily tell my story now
And climb from this moment
Just imagine Joy hopes if I died next mornin'
Just imagine some of these rappers
That ain't have Q
The godfather of this street shit
That gave y'all truth
From Pac, Snoop, Kurupt, Daz, bitch
I'm déjà vu you see my homie in the hood
'cause I hate y'all too, ooh
Death on my block, ain't worried
Glide through the air, ain't
Cautious, yeah, yeah, yeah
Mind on the ground, ain't dreamin'
Thing on my waist been leanin', yeah, yeah
Yeah hustle for a job
They still ain't called back
Dope in the hood, ain't movin' like that, uh
Chain and your watch, I need all that
All that
M's in the bank, I need all that, all that
Ten freaky girls, need all that, all that
Love from the world, need all that
So run it, mane
Cautious, yeah, yeah, yeah
Mind on the ground, ain't dreamin'
Thing on my waist been leanin', yeah, yeah
Yeah hustle for a job
They still ain't called back
Dope in the hood ain't movin' like that, uh
Chain and your watch, I need all that
All that m's in the bank, I need all that
So run it, mane
Front row at the Grammys
I'm getting praises from Jay
Fuck about this award
I'm happy he know my name
Favorite rapper Nas been told me
That I'm the best
Had a couple sessions with Dre
Knew I would win
Alchemist my favorite producer
And he my friend
All this love from the greats
Put my passion in pen
Let me tell you 'bout this
Story, when Quincy died, it had started
I left jail on house arrest and
Now ever since I've been starvin'
You know pain on my mama's face when
The opps can call me a loser
Ain't achieve shit
Her son quit sports to become a Crip
'Nother single mother that failed
Lost her son in the mix
Workin' hard through all her problems
Her son just couldn't be fixed
Got off house arrest
Sprinkled some orange in my blue shoes
Nigga, ask Traffic, Baby Deuce, yeah
And T too
Baby Love, Baby Spank, Big Spank, Big Fool
The first Figg Side originals
You ain't gotta recruit
Tony Smack, Floyd, G-Scrap, nigga
The main crew
Flossy B was locked in, but was normal
He came through nigga, 51st and Figg
On the corner Mayhem was slaughtered
Months later like the shit ain't happen
I'm with my daughter
At the laundromat, the shots rang off
I ducked to the back
Wishin' for a strap but hear
More fire from Tiny Rat
Got the devil on my side while
The Lord been pushin' me over
I can finally understand why my
Uncles was never sober
Deadbeat dad on the gas, that gas my motor
Either grab the mic, nigga
Grab the same pistola
I can easily tell my story now
And climb from this moment
Just imagine Joy hopes if I died next mornin'
Just imagine some of these rappers
That ain't have Q
The godfather of this street shit
That gave y'all truth
From Pac, Snoop, Kurupt, Daz, bitch
I'm déjà vu you see my homie in the hood
'cause I hate y'all too, ooh
Death on my block, ain't worried
Glide through the air, ain't
Cautious, yeah, yeah, yeah
Mind on the ground, ain't dreamin'
Thing on my waist been leanin', yeah, yeah
Yeah hustle for a job
They still ain't called back
Dope in the hood, ain't movin' like that, uh
Chain and your watch, I need all that
All that
M's in the bank, I need all that, all that
Ten freaky girls, need all that, all that
Love from the world, need all that
So run it, mane