WACCED OUT RAPPERS.

[Intro] Hey, Steff! A hit dog gon' holler Siento aquí tu presencia (Mhm) La noche de anoche (Yeah, what she said) Y nos ponemos a llorar I gotta kill the bitch in me, gang The man behind the shade [Verse 1] Soulo, no hoe, if you were to ever find a plural Don't be surprised, we slide and switch the plates on a stolen Tuoro Feeling animal? I understand you, I'm Ace Ventura Please don't try mister, you gon' need an epidural The guard dog pulling rank, that's a war haul And he throwing paint where you can't, just like Warhol But I'm better known as Banksquiat The BOAT, bitch. No, this ain't no yacht Soul floating, show stolen, call it Ocean's Nine NEMbers only, Pitt and Clooney just applied, hm The man they craving to supply 'em With the rocket fuel that's sure to send 'em on an astral flight I don't care if you a have or if you a have-not Ain't getting your currency, shut the fuck up, let the pilot talk Lot of my niggas died or doin' time, doin' shit we do to survive Hug your brothers, kiss your missus and moms [Chorus] Aye, man. Do your motherfuckin' stuff After you lap 'em, run up on the runner-up Aye, man. Gangbanging don't make you tough We the children of God, Indigogo, you know what's up Aye, man, you gon' leave how you came in this bitch But you ain't nothing if you don't leave nothing for your kids to flip. Shit Or a will with your kin in it, the blue nose pit Out of the kennel, shitting where your dinner is [Post-Chorus] Que reflejan tu mirada La noche, tú y yo [Verse 2] 1987 Chevy Celebrity, barely passed the smog check Living check to check, maxing out my EBT On the freeway, broke as fuck Had to hold my eye open just to see. Still got from A to B Next to the definition of no excuses is a picture of me, uh Been sick since Sounwave made beats on MTV Music generator, I was there when he got his first MPC A decade later, he brought me to TDE The rest is history, written in stone Statistics'll show, we did it with integrity, wasn't just for show Heart, honor, and respect, HiiiPower Had to smoke a cigarette every hour, locked in, skipping showers Four brothers fighting over one mic, like Nasir Straight Outta Compton was dope as fuck, but trust This documentary here? Gon' fuck the game up LA Confidential. The shit we been through is sacred My antenna's extended, stopped getting haircuts Top Dawg, underdog, but really a werewolf, uh I shapeshift when the moon is out, what you about? Nah, seriously, enlighten me I touch topics like Bohemian Grove and Illuminati The internet is so sheisty, they'll say I sacrificed Alori But that's what the fame breeds, how I'm 'posed to remain sane Without the good book, a handgun, or cocaine? (Ayy, you need to cut that shit out, leave that shit the fuck alone, lil bro, for real) I'm just saying, I bought my first gold chain after Doe died Don't drive, but behold, a pale Porsche Against all odds, even Stevens, yeah, Herbert the Fourth [Chorus] Aye, man. Do your motherfuckin' stuff After you lap 'em, run up on the runner-up Aye, man. Gangbanging don't make you tough We the children of God, Indigogo, you know what's up Aye, man, you gon' leave how you came in this bitch But you ain't nothing if you don't leave nothing for your kids to flip. Yeah Or a will with your kin in it, the blue nose pit Out of the kennel, shitting where your dinner is [Outro] Soulo