뮤직 비디오

크레딧

실연 아티스트
ScHoolboy Q
ScHoolboy Q
보컬
Matt Schaeffer
Matt Schaeffer
기타
Thundercat
Thundercat
베이스
작곡 및 작사
Quincy Hanley
Quincy Hanley
송라이터
Mark Spears
Mark Spears
송라이터
프로덕션 및 엔지니어링
Sounwave
Sounwave
프로듀서
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
믹싱 엔지니어
Gee Bizzy
Gee Bizzy
레코딩 엔지니어
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
마스터링 엔지니어

가사

Yeah, uh I got that work, fuck labour 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, hahaha 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-la familia, real nigga 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, real nigga 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? I done jumped off my ass, hit the lick and barely pass But I quickly got to to ballin' 2012 ain't really happen, so I guess it's back to trapping Eyes open night to morning (morning) Had roaches in my cereal, my uncle stole my stereo My grandma can't control him But, uh, uh, every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga But, uh, uh, click-clack, pow-pow-pow, boom, nigga But, uh, uh, me Glock clock familia 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 margiela's 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 radio's 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 frito's, chili and cheese Room for many, look in his eyes before I leave The cops'll never get the leak, grandma taught me well And my uncle gun was the accessories, 2011 sipping plus a robbery (yeah) This little piggy went to market, this little piggy carry chrome I done jumped off my ass, hit the lick and barely pass But I quickly got to to ballin' 2012 ain't really happen, so I guess it's back to trapping Eyes open night to morning (morning) Had roaches in my cereal, my uncle stole my stereo My grandma can't control him But, uh, uh, every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga But, uh, uh, click-clack, pow-pow-pow, boom, nigga But, uh, uh, me Glock clock familia Grandma said she loved me, I told her I loved her more She always got me things that we couldn't afford The new J's 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, his wife don' 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 in the back, he called us over like, "Hey Yawk, yawk, yawk, yawk", we like, "Damn, nigga" Then again, "Yawk, yawk, we like, "Damn, nigga" Hearing him say "cuz" turned us to a fan, nigga Later on he got locked so know we're taking his fades Continue the chapter from his life, we flipping that page Gangbanging was a ritual and grandma would help She should've never left her gun on the shelf This little Piggy went to market, this little Piggy carry chrome I done jumped off my ass, hit the lick and barely pass But I quickly got to to ballin' 2012 ain't really happen, so I guess it's back to trapping Eyes open night to morning (morning) Had roaches in my cereal, my uncle stole my stereo My grandma can't control him But, uh, uh, every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga But, uh, uh, click-clack, pow-pow-pow, boom, nigga But, uh, uh, me Glock clock familia
Writer(s): Mark Anthony Spears, Quincey Hanley Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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