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- 04:58
- Формат:
- mp3
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Текст песни "SchoolBoy Q — Hoover Street"
[Produced by Sounwave of Digi+Phonics]
[Verse 1]
I got that work, fuck Labor Day, just bought a gun
Fuck punching in, throwing rocks, no hopscotch
Bet my 9 milli hit the right spot
Bang... Last night it was a dream
This morning a fantasy back
When the only fan I had was a fiend
Meet me by the Acura cause the cops like
To get help from the store camera, they always in my cornea
But it's cool I've been catching on to they formula
See I'm a real loc, my street sign I'll kill fo'
Then rewind my Indo, then unroll my rillo
The bad guy never once been a hoes hero
He get zero, I said nada
Bitch pass the cama (Uh, yeah)
How'd it feel to be a real nigga? (I'm a product of a real nigga)
La-la familia (Get confronted by a real nigga)
Fuck with one of my real niggas
(Sunlight, night fall, summertime gotta ball)
How'd it feel to be a real nigga?
(Sunlight, night fall, summertime gotta ball)
How'd it feel to be a real nigga (My whole life I've been a real nigga)
La-la familia (Get confronted by a real nigga)
Fuck with one of my real niggas
(It's on like night fall, summertime gotta ball)
How'd it feel to be a real nigga?
[Beat Change]
[Hook]
I done jumped off my ass
Hit the lick and barely passed but I quickly got to balling
2012 ain't really happen
So I guess it's back to trapping, eyes open night to morning
Had roaches in my cereal
My uncle stole my stereo, my grandma can't control him
[Bridge]
But... Every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga
But... Click-clack, pow-pow-pow (Boom, nigga)
But... Meet Glock clock familia (Boom)
[Verse 2]
Find a nigga realer than me, my socks stink
Eat so much pussy that my mustache pink
Strapping, my pants seam, no need for a belt
Gangsta lean help, hoodie on backwards with the eyes cut out
My hate felt, my .45 elder, poetry's deep
I never fail ya, Schoolboy bust flame
Orange-yellow, higher than Margielas
Since a young nigga I admired the crack sellers, seen my uncle steal
From his mother, now that's the money that I'm talking 'bout
Think about it, the smoker ain't got shit and everyday he still get a hit
Whether jacking radios or sucking dick
Sell his kids and chop his wrists and sealing his lips
Cause he don't want the feds arresting his fix, didn't take much
To get me convinced, coincidence that I ain't fucking with work
Unless we rewind and answer my church
Times getting harder than my dick on a growth spurt
Around the same time all you niggas was on purp
My sober ass was snatching her purse, make the ice cream truck freeze
Give me the keys, extra Fritos, chili and cheese
Threw some Baby Lucas in his eyes before I leave
The cops'll never get the lead, grandma taught me well
And my uncle gun was the accessory, 211 sipping plus a robbery
This little piggy went to market, this little piggy carry chrome
[Hook] + [Bridge]
[Verse 3]
Grandma said she loved me, I told her I loved her more
She always got me things that we couldn't afford
The new Js and Tommy Hill in my drawers
Sega Genesis, Nintendo 64, see Golden Eye was away at war
We wasn't thinking of getting money then
Nor did I wonder why my uncle done sold his Benz
Cause he been tripping now, he sweats a lot and slimming down
I also notice moms be locking doors when he around
But anyways, he wife done left him and now he living with us
My bike is missing, Grandma like to hide her check every month
My uncle's nuts, he used to give me whiskey to piss in cups
Knocking on the door telling me to hurry up, he in a rush
I gave it to him then got my ass whipped for doing it
Moms used to tell me like, nigga, know who you dealing with
Them was the good days 'til I was raised the older ways
Rat-Tone my nigga's brother showed me my first K
I was amazed, me and Floyd was i
