Black Hippy

[Intro: Kendrick Lamar & Jay Rock] Let 'em die, dead—Black Hippy Pfffft—and we don't give a fuck Hell, nah, nigga This conglomerate so cool, Rock, we could freeze L.A., nigga Black Hippy Kendrick Lamar I tell 'em like this: [Verse 1: Kendrick Lamar, ScHoolboy Q, Jay Rock & Ab-Soul] Ring the alarm or wake to a bomb You ain't a rapper, you Elton John, holdin' your john I got a ton of croutons in the Louis Vuitton That's big bread the chickens are flying flocks when I call 'em Paul and Masson, half drunk, stuck in a poem Light matches underwater while I'm bracing the storm I'm cool and I'm calm, laid back, smoking a farm Socking the shit out of niggas till I'm breaking my arm Up in my zone, two blunts, cup of patron .45 on me, shoot you if you fuck with me wrong No homo'—pause—that's your life and it's gone Flat line you, don't put your life in the song I never drove a fast car—I almost ran over Tracy Chapman, she said, "Drive slow," I said, "Fuck off" Ab-Soul—wha'sup, y'all? Other than your sub-par Above all? I'm a heaven gate—above all Fuckin' great, and every time we in the stu'? [Chorus: ScHoolboy Q, Kendrick Lamar & Jay Rock] We cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack Yeah, homie—this is what we do 3-1-0 shit, 3-2-3, bitch Ow, nigga, welcome to the zoo, where we— Cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack Yeah, homie—this is what we do 3-2-3 shit, 3-1-0, bitch [Verse 2: Jay Rock, Kendrick Lamar, ScHoolboy Q & Ab-Soul] The Black Hippies, the bag full, the bag empty Spunt it all at the car lot, then crash quickly I'm tryna come with enough power to pass 50 I'm talking 50-bill, you niggas don't fit the bill You niggas don't keep it real, you fake as Pamela's titties I pound kitties, then hit the club with dogs with me Tan Polos, no socks, chop Dickies Tan coupe, no top, bumping Biggie Blowing sticky, before the group, been a hippy Nifty fifty, all blue—real Crippy Big money, long stocks—ask Pippy Mask on, one sock—I gets busy I smoke blacks, relax, and watch Walt Disney Puff squares, pace in circles until I'm dizzy Speakin' of Disney—fantasies, I had many I used to hate on Mickey Mouse 'cause he had Minnie Anyway—every time we in the stu'? [Chorus: ScHoolboy Q, Kendrick Lamar & Jay Rock] We cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack Yeah, homie—this is what we do 3-1-0 shit, 3-2-3, bitch Ow, nigga, welcome to the zoo, where we— Cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack Yeah, homie—this is what we do 3-2-3 shit, 3-1-0, bitch [Verse 3: ScHoolboy Q, Jay Rock, Kendrick Lamar & Ab-Soul] Ahhhhhhh! Napped through my final, made enough, richer than Lionel Fuckin' bitches on my job—cummin' harder than rhino Break through the spinal, laid back, bumpin' my vinyl Navigation on the scopes, easy to find 'em Find you and I'm right behind you—laid back, puffin' a blunt Gat on my lap, constantly talkin' shit, I'mma dump Your homies acting charged up, they can still get jumped Take ya chain, ash the kush for all you punks However you want, whenever you want, you all can get it Contagious, it's mad syphilis, blazing this God-giftedness Die over death sentences, flow hot—plus the beat knock Like J-witnesses, tell 'em I killed the witnesses Gifted as twenty Christmases, itchin' to blow Like twenty bitches with mouths that need a dick in it—wowI ran rap for half a mile then got tired Laid down and realized that I was lying You fuckin' crazy! Ha—and every time we in the stu'? [Chorus: ScHoolboy Q, Kendrick Lamar & Jay Rock] We cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack Yeah, homie—this is what we do 3-1-0 shit, 3-2-3, bitch Ow, nigga, welcome to the zoo, where we— Cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack Yeah, homie—this is what we do 3-2-3 shit, 3-1-0, bitch