Оригинален текст
Tyler & The Creator:
(Bow, bow!) 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? Mothafucker, this is war
Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga
Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga
ScHoolboy Q:
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-by's I ain't steering, white Peter Rose, I ain't ***
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 of a bag (YAWK, YAWK)
Tyler & The Creator:
(Bow, bow!) 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? Mothafucker, this is war
Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga
Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga
ScHoolboy Q:
House full of kilo's, sold pound to zero's
Cocaine my hero, you ain't you ain't Figg Side, you Deebo
Always asking for the burner light, young niggas still free load
Heart big as my ego, don't fly around my c-note
I'll rearrange your dino, crippy my whole shoes
Blue rag deciphers, murder, I'm liable, you get the Eiffel
Aim out the eyeball, I'm getting violent, I got the stripe once
Won't get the stripe twice, you niggas half price
Which means you half off, I'm going Adolf
I'm smoking bath salt through sherm sticks, burn this, ooh
Knock-knock through the condo's, sue her boyfriend for five dolls
But who was cape to your [?] Don't fuck around with me with that jin bang
Groovelining, Crip walk the whole ave
Belts, still my pants down Chuck Taylors, Cortez's, hush puppies
My Glock, yeah, fuck buddy, make money, take money
Earn crack money, drug money, bail money
Heard they got life for me, ain't got white on 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 ask mommy, grab a body bag, honey, yeah
Tyler & The Creator:
(Bow, bow!) 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? Mothafucker, this is war
Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga
Yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga, uh, yeah, nigga
ScHoolboy Q:
Bust mine 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
Kurupt:
Yeah, it's Kurupt young mothafucking Gotti
Still rolling in a six, 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 [?], South Central setting them
Get roped and choked, poetical tentacles scratch
Get roped and choked and rope-a-dope'd
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 Ox' and 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 octopussies
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
Tyler & The Creator:
(Bow, bow!) 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? Mothafucker, this is war
