KENDRICK LAMAR - West Coast Wu-Tang lyrics
rate meBack Pack Raps
Where gats say they don’t get your peeled by the black menace
It’s K. Dot thorough bred
Move like a militant
Soldier, on point like a pyramid
Force to be reckoned with
Fuck with the best shit
Like the strongest maneuver
I’m ready when you are
This is it, I’m in the lab cooking up all day
Fuck them up all day
Like a nympho, I’ve been dope since S curl waves
Trying to convince hoes I got good hair
You know damn well there’s chemicals there
I’m in the hood with the 17 year olds that’s on hood patrol
And they want stripes so they shoot off bikes
And you know any moment you could lose your life
So kiss your kids and hug your wife
Or what not
Yo, I spar with a dragon
It tried to throw a flame, but I ducked and I stabbed him
Came out the battle laughing
That’s a metaphor for any rapper who want it
I smack them till they nose is running
You know the hoes is coming if I’m there
And the hoes is coming
Once we hit the hotel
There’s no assumptions
Cool out before I move out
I bone a 105, do about 105
Before your ass get threw out
The backseat
There’s a dead guy on the freeway
Oh, it’s not Dot?
Tell the medics it’s ok
A beast with a beat break
You probably think I’m dope
Like it’s the realist shit I wrote
But to me it’s a throw away
Stare at the four walls and rap like I’m mad at God
Nice enough to throw a spear at Nas
Launched at Jay
Matter fact let me take that back
See, I don’t fuck with real legends in rap
Like you do, I’m crucial
Concealed by real crips and soo-woops
And they shoot
Like photography students
When beef gets to brewing
Is it real, son
Is it really real, son
Is it really real, son
Is it really real
Tell me how you feel, son
Tell me how you feel, son
Tell me how you feel, son
Tell me how you feel
You rap pussies got nothing for me
Once I’m so wave, record me
Every MC I’m sure to rip them
I guarantee you will forget them
Come again
No introduction, you know my name
Soul brother
You suck the juice from my ding-a-ling
Orangutan arms banging niggas like a set
When I speech they fucking silent
Like sex for the deaf
Violence, I play it like violins in a orchestra
Chew you like vitamins then spit you back out
Like a verse I had way back
Before I had it mapped out
Rip a page out the almanac
To cross reference when I wreck shit
I wish jaw bone fractures
On all of you rappers
Bumping your gods like the measles
When the record meets the needle
Hands spinning like a 12 inch
Smoking the best LT
Like I shot every bird
Follow my word
Big heard, ill with it
I need a hospital gown
You need 54 cards, deal with it
You may think I’m killing it
But I’m healing it
Like a bitch in the club
Shoot game
Two chains
Ay, yo, the flow poet
Who more focused
Kick doors open
Delivering the golden opus
Leave with two guns smoking
It’s me, the podium closing poet
Well spoken, his growth is most consistent
With imminent penmanship
Mind bending coexisting with the written verbal assassin
Eternally smashing, spazzin' on tracks
Translation I’m disgusting in action
Lyrical gluten with busting over sound waves production
Y'all want nothing, the sum of all fears
Mercury rising, I’m summer all year
I 16 them to death and wish them the best
I guess that’s the gift and the curse
You see my pattern and
Y'all still rapping
Like that’s what’s happening
I write rhymes
Put fire on stone tablets
Peep the malice, I’m a monster
Your boy running like
Like William Joseph Crawford
Is it real, son
Is it really real, son
Is it really real, son
Is it really real
Tell me how you feel, son
Tell me how you feel, son
Tell me how you feel, son
Tell me how you feel
You rap pussies got nothing for me
Once I’m so wave, record me
Every MC I’m sure to rip them
I guarantee you will forget them
Straight up, no kid hate up
Put rappers in quick sand
Dot leaned on them like kickstands
I’m so hot
Kids put me in their iPod
Even atheists play my shit
And say my God, Jesus Joseph and Mary he’s nice
Don’t compare me to them
Just compare me to Mike
Jordan when I’m recording
The verse and the chorus is ill
You can land in the lap of fortune when biting my skills
Player, watch as I lay up
Bar after bar
Like I’m trying to build a gate up
See me on the way up
Like an elevator I’mma let you take the stairs
That metaphor meaning I’m already there
Greatness
I’m in the booth with an apron
Cooking up shit like Martha Stewart was my bitch
Amen
Stay on the curve like a straight day tan
Blowing herb with my nigga Earl
Fuck what you niggas heard
We that new West Coast Wu Tang
Bitch and I’m the best
Think less you can suck my dick
Who from the west can kill it like us
Give me they name
And I’mma take them to the house of pain
Top Dawg headquarters
You rap pussies got nothing for me
Once I’m so wave, record me
Every MC I’m sure to rip them
I guarantee you will forget them
