Ft. Childish Gambino
(Intro)
L.A. Leakers discussion
(Verse: Problem)
n***a, I'm from Compton, waddup, Quick! You my n***a, bo
Doin' 80 a figure-roll, condition is critical
I can't get caught slippin', buy my phones on the pole
Boy, I been sippin', chow to my n***a feelin'
I'm not trippin' even on sale day
Big Nig', Lou Lop, Big Nose and LG
Dice games on the 100 and second to main
I lose, I hit dark, then come back and try to crack em again
Way before I hit the trafficking game
Nowadays I'm just trafficking game
You betta get some! Get that away before I hit some
Pop, blood drivin' b**h n***as crazy
Eat a ball of sh** before a b**h n***a play me
Ballin', b**h, try and play me!
Coby, KD, the late stuff in the club A stuff
Tat it from the waist up, fault like a drape stuck
Ah ah ah ah, that's for real, and how I need a pill
Independent, gettin' skrilla, I don't need a deal
Bank a k**in' wheel, two seg, need been a drill
And a n***a been this here for a long time
Pussies want a problem? Get in that long line!
Get that long line, yeah yeah, long line
Run it wrong? You'd be done in six seconds, no vines
Aye, ye ougtha come ova, she be there in no time
Like a watch list, it's show time, hoe, watch this!
If I call you for me to come ova
I'm comin' 2 stick, chop-sticks
Pull it out, she lock lips
Yeah, lemme hit it bare and I might give it some head
Think I ? I'mma do it like a dare
Money Gang be the gang and I bang it like a snare
Bow down to no man, I'mma bard, no ?
Reppin', West Side steppin'
East Side my state, with three k's I dre
I'm an outkast, hunnid hmmm in the out stash
Wolves take you out with the right cash
And I ain't talkin' bout no daeggers
Birthday love cake as much as bug love saint(?)
You Got Served! In every way possible
sh** get hostile, I get called in on the hospital
So don't be bangin' under false pretense
Cause if it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
(Hook break)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
(Cause I ain't playin' with yo punk a** boy)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
(Diamond lane, everythang, Money Gang, we winnin')
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
(Waddup, Problem?)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
(The Los Angeles Leakers)
(Verse 2: Childish Gambino)
Now look who came up in this b**h
It's mr. Look Like sh**, but I know he rich
Get at me, I thought you muthaf**as be happy
But they not, cause they took a backseat like a taxi
I'm the last kid kid, home alone so often
But I had to come back to my Cali like Caulkin'
I was born out here, then I moved out there
n***a check my core, man, this sh** ain't fair
I gotta try to allegory Fado and Problem
So you know I'm in the hood just like I'm a cobra
High thought, check the app, I'm hanging with cold ones
Man, that be no goin' off, I thought that I told you
Before the ? clothes, and the Crenshaw mall
I used to date this flat girl with a place in the Dauntons
We used to cruise Leimert Park in a beemer
Love a Cali girl so much, have you seen her?!
Shout out to Latinas, look at all these hineys
We know is the highest, n***as know I'm challenge
I be on that wild sh** and she down to roll
Ate her p**y like a sushi teriyaki bowl
Aye, yo, Problem! (Waddup!) This a diss track, right?
f** you, f** you! You're cool, you can't rap!
You need help, you all industry hype
Most of these n***as are aight, none of them holdin' the light
To me wrongs are white, the cheese like it was 93'
After the rise, n***as was violent
Spread the lime, I took the L sh**
Wasn't silent, tho
Middle finger crossed up, n***as, now you know
For real
(Hook break)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
(Real orgy night, for real, man, for real)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
(Cause if it don't make dollars, it don't make sense)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
(Compton Ghetto on ya, that's round up)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
(The Los Angeles Leakers)
(Outro)
L.A. Leakers discussion