Music Video

The Purge
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
ScHoolboy Q
ScHoolboy Q
Vocals
Kurupt
Kurupt
Vocals
Tyler, The Creator
Tyler, The Creator
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Quincy Hanley
Quincy Hanley
Songwriter
Ricardo Brown
Ricardo Brown
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Tyler, The Creator
Tyler, The Creator
Producer
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Derek "MixedByAli" Ali
Mixing Engineer
James Hunt
James Hunt
Recording Engineer
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer
Nathaniel Alford
Nathaniel Alford
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

My daddy said drown, nigga (Pow, pow, pow!) Coming in for yours Niggas got them choppers and they knocking at your door The sirens getting louder when the bodies hit the floor Why you look confused? Mothafucka, this is war Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga As this G shit begin, put this product placement on your chin The realest nigga breathing, y'all pretend Real Crippy since I hopped off the swing With my strap, that's my peace offering (Yo, yeah, uh, yeah) Five shots get rung out, five bodies falling Come put your lights out, I spark your apartment Deadline my clothing, don't fuck with Pink Dolphin Strap on his hairline, his forehead gets softened Send extras through his chest bones, shit, he don't need that coffin Most niggas would've run away, but me I'm out here walking Bucket hat with my shades on, my wardrobe look awesome Now nah, I ain't on no dolphin, fuck rhyming, I'm Cripping Niggas rap about what I'm living, all this false claiming, I'm marring Doing drive-bys I ain't steering, white Peter Rose, I ain't tearin' Fuck your bitch in front of your children Steal your whip side of my building, yeah Put my dick and nuts in her mouth, bust in her hair I'm very rare, got my trigger on top of my underwear Bitch, I'm everywhere and over there You die here, let off a pair (YAWK, YAWK) (Pow, pow, pow!) Coming in for yours Niggas got them choppers and they knocking at your door The sirens getting louder when the bodies hit the floor Why you look confused? Mothafucka, this is war Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga House full of kilos, sold pound to zeros Cocaine my hero, you in Figg Side, getting Deeboed Always asking for the burner light, young niggas still free load Heart big as my ego, don't fly around my signal I'll rearrange your dental, Crippy my house shoes Blue rag disciples, murder I'm liable, you get the Eiffel Aim out the eyeball, I'm getting violent, I got the strike once Won't get the strike twice, you niggas half price Which means you half off, I'm going Adolf I'm smoking bath salt, two sherm sticks, burn this, ooh Knock-knock through the condo's, Schoolboy from the five deuce But Hoover respect to you unranked, don't fuck around, get that chin banged Groovelining, Crip walk the whole mile Blue Belts, still my pants down, Chuck Taylors, Cortezes, hush puppies My Glock, yeah, fuck buddy, make money, take money Earn crack money, drug money, bail money Heard they got life for me, but how they got life for me When they took that from me, since I had my nose runny I was out past sunny, had the strap by my tummy You can go and ask mommy, grab a body bag, homie, yeah (Pow, pow, pow!) Coming in for yours Niggas got them choppers and they knocking at your door The sirens getting louder when the bodies hit the floor Why you look confused? Mothafucka, this is war Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga Bust my gun all by myself Rock cocaine all my myself Poured propane all on myself Go so hard might harm myself Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga Yeah, nigga, yeah, nigga Yeah, it's Kurupt young mothafucking Gotti Still rolling in a 6, I don't fuck with the Bugatti Come up in this mothafucka looking for a bitch Probably sucked on my dick then you kissed it on the lips The integral, South Central sentinel Get roped and choked, poetical tentacles stretch Get roped and choked and rope-a-doped Extra overdose of the oki-doke Get a nigga smoked, I ain't no joke Tired of this bullshit and everything y'all talk about They walked 'em in, I walked 'em out They talked 'em in, I chalked 'em out Now cock back that Oxy (Pow-pow, pow-pow) Walking in South, pistols popping, top is popping off Pop a tab in this neighborhood, rode it 60 bars Ghetto tribalist, squeezing pussy like octopuses Show me where the money at, show me where the kush is Next time you see me I'll probably be in the bushes This is the reasons why I won't be fucking with pussies like you Me, Tyler, and Schoolboy Q, we told them (Pow, pow, pow!) Coming in for yours Niggas got them choppers and they knocking at your door The sirens getting louder when the bodies hit the floor Why you look confused? Mothafucka, this is war Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga
Writer(s): Ricardo Emmanuel Brown, Tyler Gregory Okonma, Quincy Matthew Hanley, Paul D. Salva Jr. Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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