Grab the Mic

[Intro: ScHoolboy Q & DJ Ill Will] Yeah GED, oh boy Can't be reconciling Ill Will exclusive [Chorus 1: ScHoolboy Q] We got that front, back, side to side Lean with it, rock with it, burner might pop with it Illest in the game, GED with the flame (Q) [Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q] First off, let me get this shit cleared Any nigga talk, prolly get his shit smeared Back in the trunk, next to the pumps Had you floating in the ocean, now you trashed by the dumps Nifty fifty gang, I was raised in the slumps Pockets so fat like it's raised by the Klumps Any nigga that want it, get it, he can get fitted from long range No game, nigga we bring the pain ScHoolboy and one letter, you know the name Kill what? If he doubt it, you know the game Reload, cock back and let it bang Pill round, no leash, I'm never tamed Been around the world, whole world know I got cream No lie, I'm the best at this rap thing No pen and I still make the trench scream Shitting on the mic and wipe my ass with the pop scream Who Q? Yeah, he the rap king Big Mac? Yeah, she the rap queen Hate thongs? Yeah, I know they beat me And my nigga Top gon' be the reason why you a crack fiend God damn, fuck I need to rap for Order anything and I still make the trap go [Pre-Chorus: ScHoolboy Q & Tyga] Front, back, side to side Lean with it (Hahhh) [Chorus 2: BMac the Queen] We got that front, back, side to side Lean with it, rock with it Burn the mic, pop with it [Verse 2: BMac the Queen] I'm the queen of the game You already know my name Haters gotta love it 'cause my swag is super high Super dope, super fresh, and the way I dress is super fly But I ain't really come here to talk about that I'm just trying to show these all niggas that I can rap Spit a little crack on the track, fall back If you didn't know the name, now you know it's B-Mac Hit him from the H to the double O, D You ain't from the hood if you ain't heard about me Pocket full of cheese, Six Fours on these So please, you don't really want beef with the Queen Got a couple thugs on the payroll Spraying when I say so, lay low You don't want problems, plus I got a car and a crib I don't pay for Cased close, you don't really want no drama chill I'm loved in the hood 'cause I keeps it real Loved in the burbs 'cause my crib's on a hill And I ain't even say that I'm rich, if a trick wanna trip Then the cap get peeled quick I be on that real shit And I know I got that ill spit Worked about a meal tick Can't nobody do it like I do, ya dig? [Chorus 3: Tyga] Front, back, side to side Stick this in your Ipod, I promise this you'll like Beyond your fly, take the mic [Verse 3: Tyga] Lean with it, rock with it You say I'm not with it Take a man, he pop with it Let's see you album, pop, get 'em No introduction, fuckin' his sister with seduction Couple of familiar Russians, rushing to touch it All my busters loving this club, bitch Usher Oh sure, sex brosure Chick get skeeted in your Kitty Couture Oh you on tour? So you perform? How about you let me fuck you, straight form Next morn', leave in a cab Car, sir, this is the pad How can they argue? I'm marketable in a market that you're marching into Crazy Compton, Dina Carson, I be roaming Couple of homies Money I'm moaning, we spend it like nothing 'Cause music be keeping it coming Young Money, younger with money Skin tag, my life is so lovely I'm not worried about nothing Forgetting every dollar I'm getting [Chorus 4: Reginae Carter] I get 'em front, back, side-to-side Lean with me, ride with me Low lying, Tyga put me on so [Verse 4: ?] Bear with me, here I come I be the broad, not to be broad with You act her Liz, but I know you harmless GD not the squad to play hard with If you planning to, I'm Hannibal, like where's your carcass You be talking rank, kiss it, let me sergeant You be talking Spanish, consider me Martian You be talking names, consider me Carmine Whoever say they better than Gronk, tell them forfeit They don't want it with me like Sam-I-Am They don't want it with the tea like green eggs and ham Would you like it on the plane? Would you like it on the train? Would you like it on a boat? Freaks like the deep throat Haters like to get choked You ain't getting every dollar, get broke If you ain't poppin' this off, get low This shit right here wet, get soaked I push you from the front back, get dome They spit, crackers spit low God MC, call me Loc Got all the fans like hold my notes Take one hit at a time, don't overdose One dime though, don't overload (Oh my god)