Bad Lucc - Target Practice lyrics

[Ab-Soul] Uh... Wa**up... Show these n***as how the west was won... [Verse 1:Ab-Soul] Yeah... if you don't know my name by now Just call me any rapper, could get it Any month, any week, any day, any minute I'm knocking ballers off of their pivot in this scrimmage They painting pictures with no description Like a witness, who took an oath of no snitching Mind ya business, like the best entrepreneur, I be diminished By the metaphor, in the following sentence I told you I does it a dozen times, you must of thought I was lyin' Yeah I'm nice but I'm not too kind So dope I can say the same line two times So dope I can say the same line two times I don't care about your age, your creed, or color The squares in your circle or the angles you covered If you in front of your girl, your cousin or mother I spread your a** out in the street like bu*ter You got your toast, well I'm on a quip with a quote So a bullet leaving your chamber's like a word that I spoke Soul brother number dos, I'm a breathe in hundred's smoke Driven down central by a n***a in some Loc's Never going back to Cali cause the n***a never leave Even when I'm out the state, you see me, you see L.A And ain't nobody f**ing with me, like a virgin with Klamydia Recognize, Top Dawg familiar [Verse 2: Bad Lucc] Yeah... it's so amazing guru Jazzmatazz, the sound thinking of yoo-hoo Scrap, I'm going all in, it's the top dog With them Top Dawgs, n***a I'm not your Average rhyme, put together, the architects Build raps, sell 'em his starter kits, the beast boy Fat boy get confused with monster Bury n***as like Contra, I'm your savior Don't call that man upstairs, cause if them stares Compare to me, look you shook like Mobb and them Been say, dark as Sinkay Be hell to fate, I've been great, ya dig? How could he, rap was such a force When I've been doing this since car hard jackers that figured four rock More problem, gangster, goblin Still in this tower with no robin, get that? Stacks in my jeans, yeah they know the deal snoopy Lovin' big b**hes but they don't fit in my two seat Turnt the heater and bang, like my n***as from the hunters Shout out Bubble, what up Getta Sticking to my plans, rap for my fans Hootchie, lent that groupie that dick, get a Trans With no album, no show, got 'em golo Been about the turf since Merf was on the ocho Thugging like amone, word to the chrome Lights excite bike, I'm rushing to the throne Spitta, fat n***a jerking like he skinny New era Henny and a new pair of pennies I'm off my rocker, n***as do me nada Proud but still in my pradas, ya b**h Bad Lucc see me now, yeah that's what's up We the West, it's what's up, ya dig? [Verse 3: Kendrick Lamar] Aiming out the cannon of bazookas 100 ways to f** you, over, no Karma Sutra West coast till my d**h bed, cutting up Somebody f**ing with Mr. Edward Scissorhands I've been the man before you've been the man And I've been the man's equilibrium until it's worrisome Aiming for his gut like Caesarians Throw me in aquariums, I bet I'll grab a shark Snatch out his heart, freeze it then preserve it in a jar I'm all these n***as bumping like stickers at the end of a car Aka K Dot commit a sin, press record I k** 'em every time, this ain't a free verse This a crime, you rehearse, or duck the bomb Big a** W, and I throw it up like powder in the hands of Lebron, n***a what? Compton on my raider cap, oh wait, no wait But we want our spot back, then go nuts Somebody hand me their jockstrap, I ball everywhere Pure beast, a bear couldn't even bear Royal flush, like the feds rolling up And I f** with Bad Lucc but never broke a mirror Yeah, it's like that for you other coasts I'm right back in the '87 regal, and the people watch My wheels peel, like it's Motrin I'm a headache for pete's sake, you cheapskates Can never out do me, or better yet do us Water's run deep, and you f**ing around with scuba Divers with riders sticking their hand inside the cooler I live in a iceberg, you telling me you cooler? I'm living my dreams and I can k** Freddy Kruger Bout to run the game in some ran down Pumas And my name Mr. K Almighty, try to low ball But she speaks only highly, try me, Q [Verse 4: Schoolboy Q] Let's see how many do it Put your hands up now, let's see how many truant Lying to the people, know you want for your doings Good with this rap talk, I'm kinda speaking fluent Influenced by c**aine, gats, and my dickies Life in the '50's, swisher sweet wrapped in a sticky Malt liquor stuffed up in paper bags, got me sparked up First n***a act up, he getting choked up Locced up, only seeing .45 from the jeans You see a n***a work from the spleen, you naw mean? I be the truth, if I'm not, you be holding your tooth Blessed or not I might bring hell in the booth Hallelujah Lord Jesus, wish Pac was here to see this All these n***as s**ing penis, straight f*g, take a dick Up in they a** for cash, why most in their chains for jags You heard about them L.A. n***as Catch ya a**, strip you out of your Pelham n***a While I'm doing it, screaming out "L.A. n***a!" Stay with your mouth, something like the L.A. sinner T.D. enter-, you don't even get this sinner Dumb muthaf**as, cause a ruckus, y'all s**as Boss n***a, Schoolboy got a problem to solve Top Dawg, y'all under the paw The new sh** like swine flu, covered in sores Told ya.. [Verse 5: Jay Rock] Holding up a W, n***a you ain't loving us? We ain't loving you, f** what you're going through Rock got a point to prove, this ain't your average 16 This a d**h blow, you running outta petro- Don't have enough gas, to last with this metro Don't have enough cash to blast with this Rambo .45 tucked in my boxers, yeah we slang iron f** around and box ya, Y city shots-a Welcome to the land of the choppers Nickerson gardens you better watch us Ready for the drive-by, on the roof snipe out ya driver Run around straight to the car, leave no survivors That's how we get down, you don't wanna sit down Better take cover when you see us in your tizzown West Coast takeover, give the game a makeover The end is near, you fake rappers, your day's over Red fitted when I step in the place White t, black jeans, boo yah on my waist Yeah.. it's the rock, not over, get it right dawg f** a rap battle, f** around and get your life lost Lay the clip off, bust until the hammer break Knock your head off, when I aim it at your face That's that gutter rap, show you where the gutter at When it's beef time we gon' bring it where your mother at