Schoolboy Q, Rapper Big Pooh, Murs - Fuck Ya Hip Hop lyrics
Schoolboy Q [Quincy Matthew Hanley] Wiesbaden, West Germany/South Central LA, CA, U.S. 🇩🇪 🇺🇸
[Schoolboy Q, Rapper Big Pooh, Murs - Fuck Ya Hip Hop lyrics]
I think my pressure boiling from
All the shit that's spoiling
Uh, I once was on it
But now my head's enormous
Uh, your shit was boring
My art is fast and forming
Creativity is what you lack
In your performance
You see the crowd nigga? Microphone checker
Mr home Wrecker, give me hard liquor
Let the blunt flicker
You see my style evolve
Reservoir Dogs and we some Hannibals
If I would catalog, feeling phenomenon
I'm after the Parmesan
While gripping my fire arm
Bang, he lost an arm, bang
He writing nothing
Nigga you wasting time, I'm
Wasted, past the line, i'm hard
My nig, you whine, you broke
My nig, you lying, you owe
You buying dimes, look my nig
We know the signs
But quick to speak our minds
Fronting like you balling man
I couldn't tell, Hell
Smoking more than what your dealer sell
Huh, super fail, super duper fail
Listen to the Schoolboy, my mic
Can teach you well, hell
Hah, left him at a pit stop
Top Dawg, mothafuck your hip hop
They don't wanna see you shine
They don't wanna see you grow
They don't wanna see you sign on
That line and get doe
Wanna keep you in they pocket
I fire like a rocket i'm tryna blow up
Like sticking forks in the socket
I did it for the love, I do it for the art
Now how am I supposed to write
These 16's in the dark?
My car's on park, I can't eat skills
And props ain't gon' pay
All these mothafuckin' bills
I can keep it real and get
Paid at the same time
Money in my pocket won't reflect
On my next line next rhyme, next date
Showing off my chest plate
Belly big, looking all full, cause I just ate
Know some shit been going wrong
If I lost weight
Ain't about the doe, but I need it now
Won't wait
Can't stop, won't stop, not even a drip drop
Say what you want but mothafuck your hip hop
They say, "Murs why you put Dogg Pound
On Paid Dues and shit?
Must have gone mainstream
Sold out losing it"
Niggas that's been underground for years
And ain't doing shit
My homies ain't no B-boys fool
All they do is Crip
Keep on talking shit and they gon'
Sock you in the lip
And you gon' do is get mad
And try to sue a pimp
Then I'm spending loot on
A lawyer that's ludicrous
Cashing out my street cred for you? Man
I'm through with this i'm a changed man
That's the only reason you exist
If this was '96 we would have
Caught you in a twist
The little homies busting at
You out the Bronco
Peel your cap ten kick back at the compost
Large orange bang and a bomb plate of nachos
Bitter broke nigga, quit hating
Keep your mouth closed
Rapping 30 years, you still ain't this hot
Shut your ass up nigga
Mothafuck your hip hop
Mothafuck your hip hop
Mothafuck your hip hop
You ain't gotta cop it when my shit drop?
Mothafuck your hip hop
All the shit that's spoiling
Uh, I once was on it
But now my head's enormous
Uh, your shit was boring
My art is fast and forming
Creativity is what you lack
In your performance
You see the crowd nigga? Microphone checker
Mr home Wrecker, give me hard liquor
Let the blunt flicker
You see my style evolve
Reservoir Dogs and we some Hannibals
If I would catalog, feeling phenomenon
I'm after the Parmesan
While gripping my fire arm
Bang, he lost an arm, bang
He writing nothing
Nigga you wasting time, I'm
Wasted, past the line, i'm hard
My nig, you whine, you broke
My nig, you lying, you owe
You buying dimes, look my nig
We know the signs
But quick to speak our minds
Fronting like you balling man
I couldn't tell, Hell
Smoking more than what your dealer sell
Huh, super fail, super duper fail
Listen to the Schoolboy, my mic
Can teach you well, hell
Hah, left him at a pit stop
Top Dawg, mothafuck your hip hop
They don't wanna see you shine
They don't wanna see you grow
They don't wanna see you sign on
That line and get doe
Wanna keep you in they pocket
I fire like a rocket i'm tryna blow up
Like sticking forks in the socket
I did it for the love, I do it for the art
Now how am I supposed to write
These 16's in the dark?
My car's on park, I can't eat skills
And props ain't gon' pay
All these mothafuckin' bills
I can keep it real and get
Paid at the same time
Money in my pocket won't reflect
On my next line next rhyme, next date
Showing off my chest plate
Belly big, looking all full, cause I just ate
Know some shit been going wrong
If I lost weight
Ain't about the doe, but I need it now
Won't wait
Can't stop, won't stop, not even a drip drop
Say what you want but mothafuck your hip hop
They say, "Murs why you put Dogg Pound
On Paid Dues and shit?
Must have gone mainstream
Sold out losing it"
Niggas that's been underground for years
And ain't doing shit
My homies ain't no B-boys fool
All they do is Crip
Keep on talking shit and they gon'
Sock you in the lip
And you gon' do is get mad
And try to sue a pimp
Then I'm spending loot on
A lawyer that's ludicrous
Cashing out my street cred for you? Man
I'm through with this i'm a changed man
That's the only reason you exist
If this was '96 we would have
Caught you in a twist
The little homies busting at
You out the Bronco
Peel your cap ten kick back at the compost
Large orange bang and a bomb plate of nachos
Bitter broke nigga, quit hating
Keep your mouth closed
Rapping 30 years, you still ain't this hot
Shut your ass up nigga
Mothafuck your hip hop
Mothafuck your hip hop
Mothafuck your hip hop
You ain't gotta cop it when my shit drop?
Mothafuck your hip hop