ScHoolBoy Q

ScHoolBoy Q - Cycle lyrics

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[ScHoolboy Q]Hold and shoot till he dropWe'll be waiting for you around the corner, niggaOnly twelve and a half, and already ducking them jabsFighting back, just hoping that he last, he on his assHuffing and puffing, getting taggedSee what this nigga feel would only make them niggas laughHe felt the discomfort, didn't trust him right awaySaw the Devil in they eyes, his homie looking straightBut something was different in him, not the same from yesterdayShit, his whole demeanor changed, even his smile was strange, his childhood never cameBut dude was always gutter, he got it from his brotherFrom his brother, from his brother, brought pain onto his motherOnce was elementary homies, but now we attack each otherShit, set love aside, tuck his pride, shit, he had to rideThrew on his hood and then he fired, fired and firedFired and fired, the tires screechSpirit up out of reachA young nigga swallowing yeast, trapped in the belly of the beast, sheesh[Chorus 2X]I know niggas that kill niggas, that kill niggasthat kill niggas, that kill niggasThe cycle continuesThe cycle continues (kill nigga, kill nigga)[ScHoolboy Q]He only seventeen, his homies was his motiveHe only seventeen, his mama never noticedToo busy paying bills, tryna provide a mealPay the rent and steal, her child live for a thrillFulfill his niggas' wishes, no more hugs or kissesNo more 'how you been?', no more tucking inHe with them other men, poppa never cameSo his cousin then would pretend, imitating if they was himGot the pistol on him loaded, loaded off of ginFeels like niggas on him, so he look for themFirst nigga wrong, hack! Blam blam to himParanoia kills, kill or be killedLet alone all them thugs, let alone all them drugsTreat is kinda like a bud, let's see how karma doesLet's see how much he loves shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up, bam, bam[Chorus 2X][ScHoolboy Q]This nigga twenty-one, he feel like he the manThis nigga twenty-one, his mom said be a manLove to sag his pants, pistol in his handFeel he too advanced, him slipping out his chanceThink he at his best, he hit the set, he making ordersGot them lil' niggas busting shots and flipping quartersAn ounce a half, double up, shit, what you order?Even dimes think with a corrupted mindAdapted to the crime, living with regretsIn order to survive gotta get highCautious with time, paranoia all through his bodyTrying love for a hobby, you know gangsters come with kidsTeaching them wasn't hisEBT, the corner store, he go to fill up the fridgeApproached by a little nigga, hoodie over his lidLooked down the barrel of a burner tucked, aimed at his wigLet him fire, then he fired, fired[Chorus 2X]

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