Schoolboy Q, Kendrick Lamar - Dead Rappers lyrics
Schoolboy Q [Quincy Matthew Hanley] Wiesbaden, West Germany/South Central LA, CA, U.S. 🇩🇪 🇺🇸
Kendrick Lamarс [Duckworth] Compton, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Schoolboy Q, Kendrick Lamar - Dead Rappers lyrics]
Hey, yo guess who's bizack still hit a
Crack him off loads
Cocaine spit throat be the stove
Stay running on these tracks and
The mic be the soles
Be cautious real spitters so
You might get exposed
Copycats spitting all these facts
Without your life attached not understanding
Where your life is at
You got your boy confused
Though I'm not convinced
Would tell you washed up
But your flow is drenched
Let me clear my throat let
Me spit these quotes
And tell you Q, Jay Rock, Dot
We run the coast
I'm so addicted, and so is Lifted
So restricted, now your flow evicted
Fake niggas see through you like eyelashes
Eyeglasses like Kobe nigga, no passes
My breed, knowing that you can't make 'em
You can't break 'em
So peace As-salamu alaykum
Goodbye, I know the rapper dead
I'm on my murder job again in the morning
This 187 on the line I know the rapper dead
That means another record label is mourning
So you can run but you cannot hide
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Mortician got a feeling with embalming fluid
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Lyrical homicide best believe I do
Yo Q, these niggas think they cute
Talking louder than the trumpet
When I see 'em where the fluke?
Your opinion something moving like
Pew pass by
'em, hog tie 'em For the revenue
Bullets peer through the bulletproof
Look what the iron do scope
Now I'm eyeing you
Silencer, now my iron grew I en route
Learn, of the flow first to
Realize these rap guys
Shit on 'em then throw them to
The flies bombs like Al-Ca-ter
Ride on my enemies, homicide
Text like a referee
Give you free shot for any penalty
Drop metaphors
Nouns and verbs plenty similes
Serve like a waitress and you
Don't want seconds courtesy
Off K Dot, the son of 2Pac
Biggies nephew Big L said I was special
Now let's do, lunch over these beats
Even Punch said I was sweet
Punchlines and kick hot rhymes 'till
I'm burning my feet ouch
Goodbye, I know the rapper dead
I'm on my murder job again in the morning
This 187 on the line I know the rapper dead
That means another record label is mourning
So you can run but you cannot hide
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Mortician got a feeling with embalming fluid
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Lyrical homicide best believe I do
Wait I got it uh known
For spitting knowledge uh
Homages like tuition
They pay it like it's college uh
Wait professor uh
Well how I spit it this semester
Look I'm sending MC's on a stretcher
These bitches uh
All because my lyrical conversation
Got these bitches begging for penetration
Humiliation, Rappers they will know
I demolish ya
Spit you to a coma Dot finish 'em
Uh, wait, diminish ya preach like
A ministerCompetition naw
They pussy get the vinegar
Get in the ass like animals
Imitators get plenty of
Propane, hotter when winter come, some insane
Dope mane, bee's the studio
You ain't lived here
Ever since I done came, record me yoooo
Your own momma wouldn't do that
She rather throw herself in the
Dumpster than listen to trash
Crack him off loads
Cocaine spit throat be the stove
Stay running on these tracks and
The mic be the soles
Be cautious real spitters so
You might get exposed
Copycats spitting all these facts
Without your life attached not understanding
Where your life is at
You got your boy confused
Though I'm not convinced
Would tell you washed up
But your flow is drenched
Let me clear my throat let
Me spit these quotes
And tell you Q, Jay Rock, Dot
We run the coast
I'm so addicted, and so is Lifted
So restricted, now your flow evicted
Fake niggas see through you like eyelashes
Eyeglasses like Kobe nigga, no passes
My breed, knowing that you can't make 'em
You can't break 'em
So peace As-salamu alaykum
Goodbye, I know the rapper dead
I'm on my murder job again in the morning
This 187 on the line I know the rapper dead
That means another record label is mourning
So you can run but you cannot hide
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Mortician got a feeling with embalming fluid
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Lyrical homicide best believe I do
Yo Q, these niggas think they cute
Talking louder than the trumpet
When I see 'em where the fluke?
Your opinion something moving like
Pew pass by
'em, hog tie 'em For the revenue
Bullets peer through the bulletproof
Look what the iron do scope
Now I'm eyeing you
Silencer, now my iron grew I en route
Learn, of the flow first to
Realize these rap guys
Shit on 'em then throw them to
The flies bombs like Al-Ca-ter
Ride on my enemies, homicide
Text like a referee
Give you free shot for any penalty
Drop metaphors
Nouns and verbs plenty similes
Serve like a waitress and you
Don't want seconds courtesy
Off K Dot, the son of 2Pac
Biggies nephew Big L said I was special
Now let's do, lunch over these beats
Even Punch said I was sweet
Punchlines and kick hot rhymes 'till
I'm burning my feet ouch
Goodbye, I know the rapper dead
I'm on my murder job again in the morning
This 187 on the line I know the rapper dead
That means another record label is mourning
So you can run but you cannot hide
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Mortician got a feeling with embalming fluid
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Lyrical homicide best believe I do
Wait I got it uh known
For spitting knowledge uh
Homages like tuition
They pay it like it's college uh
Wait professor uh
Well how I spit it this semester
Look I'm sending MC's on a stretcher
These bitches uh
All because my lyrical conversation
Got these bitches begging for penetration
Humiliation, Rappers they will know
I demolish ya
Spit you to a coma Dot finish 'em
Uh, wait, diminish ya preach like
A ministerCompetition naw
They pussy get the vinegar
Get in the ass like animals
Imitators get plenty of
Propane, hotter when winter come, some insane
Dope mane, bee's the studio
You ain't lived here
Ever since I done came, record me yoooo
Your own momma wouldn't do that
She rather throw herself in the
Dumpster than listen to trash