Lyrics:
I call him
I don't really know about you, but I know what I've been through
Every time I call him, ain't no tellin' what God can do
He did it for
on the side of you
Fucked up, but what the fuck am I to do?
I keep tellin' myself, keep doin' like you're doin'
No matter how many lives you ruin
It's for
for life, please don't change
You can hide at my house, it ain't no thing
If you see the pigs, don't say jack
Call me original, don't say cap
I'm
Yeah, I like it when the girls
Stop by in the summer do you remember?
Do you remember when we met, last summer?
New Kids On The Block had a bunch
that house on the lake it's for the kids and the wife
You can test me if you wanna
Cause I be dumping niggaz off from new orleans to california
Rowdy
to ninety-nine
Yeah
Yeah, that shit was greasy, fat Paul, know what I'm saying?
But check it, you gotta another verse for me?
I want you to kick it, you know
yes I know you feel it
You look like one of those dancers from the Hanson video (say what, say what?)
You little faggot ho', please give me some shit
shouldn't be so tough
It's hot at home, mamma's got a block on the phone
Couldn't call my man Pete so I called Huddy Comb
Yo, Meeno
Yo, Hud
On the low,
on a new record he got
He call it "a lot," I open my book and I jot
Pray for Tekashi, they want him to rot
I picture him inside a cell on a cot
'Flectin'
and pump you 'til I hear my baby say
"Oww!"
That's what I know you like
I'm your nigga now about to read your rights
And as sure as I'm a nasty boy
Yeah yeah, yeah, grab the pump pump (yeah)
It's on we 'bout to thump thump
Well if I jump I feel bad luck upon me
Make me grab my pump and call
his lap
Matter fact
I'm 'bout to speak at this convention
Call you back gunshot
The screen reads: "This is a
Satire by Kendrick Lamar"
It's not
the freestyle
Call me out once, you do not get a redial
I got grown ass men actin' fetal
I do not spin the block, nigga, I reroute
Number one, give a fuck
Yo black what you want for Christmas?
Yo black I want some cash
So I can buy some indo, some chronic and some hash.
A rump pa pump pump
(bi-itch)
Pump, pump, pump, pump let no shots
Double Glock Glock
Nigga pop pop it don't stop
In that dirty south
Burn up the whole block that's
What this
lot of mumblin'*]
Yo black what you want for Christmas?
yo black I want some cash
so I can buy some indo, some chronic and some hash.
[]
a rump pa pump
It's the raid for you punk motherfuckers
(The pump in yo' ass)
This is it nigga! Killuminati style
(Outlaw lifestyle)
Makaveli the Don, solo shit, bring
CHORUS
Children play women produce
Kids killing kids just for the juice
Now Africa is looking for the truth
But it's
of New York
Hawk is what them niggaz call me, 'cause they all be
Suckin' my dick and on my motherfuckin' balls, G
I know the half, so I laugh with 'em
Nigga, I hit em' up
Check this out, you motherfuckers know what time it is (take money)
I don't even know why I'm on this track (take money)
Y'all
put that on my left rib
25 with no kids but this dick you can babysit
24 lighters in the sky, what life is a real nigga
20 Al-Qaeda bomb when I do
Daddy's long gone and he left you by ya lonesome
Thank the Lord for my kids, even if nobody else want 'em (left you all by yourself)
'Cause I think we can
straight trick or treating
What ya eatin
I ain't got no words for you
Fuck speakin, ain't part of my crew
Face look too brand new, who?
Niggas ain't
down for mine
Ill cat, slick talk, slang new york
To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? you punk faggot crab
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