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black hippy - nahright, onsmash lyrics
[verse 1: kendrick lamar]
soon as the beat drop, i’m on it
when i’m on it the rap, my main purpose is to bone it
i f-ck over these tracks like i’m a p-rno star
a good beat is a fat -ss and big t-tties y’all
i say w-ssup nah right
i say w-ssup on smash
like some grapes in a wine cellar
ain’t nothing that you can tell her
them top dawg fellas are good fellas indeed
surrounded by palm trees
chronic fingers palm trees
105 hi speed, doing a hundred like my name is big face
shout out to ‘tiny’ cause i’m tryna escape
the crooked arms of the law
still i shine like the sun facing a star
might brighten up your day tomorrow
mark of the beast on your forehead go head its god given
i’m living like jesus of nazareth whether christian or catholic
sacrifice in my mind, body, and soul for the hip hop
till the sh-t stop, i’m with pac and big pop, jay rock
tell ’em…
[verse 2: jay rock]
my n-ggas, y’all can check me out
nah right, jay rock, feel my style
kendrick lamar, top dawg, them n-ggas wild
the way they murder them tracks, they say them n-ggas foul
so get a whiff of this hip hop in its finest hour
i’mma sit at the top ’till my final hour
our, goal is to get the money
the power, bad b-tches sitting in my shower
lot of n-ggas wanna compare me
what the people don’t know, these n-ggas scared b
yeah the truth hurts, that’s what i am
and it hurt ’em every time when they play my jam
d-mn, don’t like it? my n-gga, f-ck you
cause i’mma still do me, like i’m supposed to
it’s jay rock, a.k.a the mac
watts city california, and we on smash
[verse 3: ab-soul]
i’m starting to be a part of such a conglomerate
and i’ve been live since the date i made my momma late
i swear to god, my mind travel like a (?)
man, how many clams it take to make a pearly gate?
and nah right, is alright with me
cause they provide, what we write, for your eyes to see
i’m beating on your eardrums like quest love
music is in my roots, plant me and watch me bloom
couldn’t tell you how many hours i spent in my room
knotting my noggin or something, knocking, no lock on my door
so if my momma peaked in she subject to get her chin
checked by a punchline how’s that for a metaphor, huh?
so here’s another smash for on smash, and it’s hot
like that bright orange light under the pot
we do this religiously the booth is a mosque
and if i lie, then so do allah, ta-ta
[verse 4: schoolboy q]
copped a bag of weed, get so high
that the sp-ce has no gravity
take away all the pain and the agony
this the real call, for my real n-ggas
how you feel n-gga? ask nah right? i got it on smash
last blunt, this should help me make this song last
used to make a dollar off of 15’s
till i figured i could make it off of 16’s
still ain’t made it off of 16…
so it’s back to flipping pat’s and getting cream
mom say she wanna doctor, still my -ss
chose to be a rapper, it figures
but really it’s deeper than that
i can get really deep to the facts
play on repeat to the max
with the reefer attached, stay updated
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