Schoolboy Q - What's The Word lyrics

[ScHoolboy Q] Uh, go hard for the squad like, bam! Spray with a stain on it (sh**) Flamed out the nozzle, at it full throttle Acting hyena, black ninas Uh, it's young n***as heating up Phoenix Top Dawg familiar, crept with a Dillinger in my fifth pocket, chump n***as stop it Say you pressing who? f** around and get a tattoo Have me dumping out the sunroof Consequences you done ran through Caught his a** slipping looking pretty in them sandals Keep the gangster to the streets, you know the sh** was handled Ten speed, handle bar sh**, Astro fit Hopped off with a message in a clip Inbox read (third verse), hitting till the third I'll be back up on the curb, what's the word, word, word, word, word? [Chorus: Ab-Soul (ScHoolboy Q)] We continue to bring you nothing but that true gang- -ster sh** you can move to, groove to, ooooh (What's the word? What's the word? What's the word?) We continue to bring you nothing but that true sh**, G sh** [Jay Rock] Never had much, always had heart Always had guts, I don't give a f** I ride like a bus, heavy with my flows while my n***as in the spot, heavy with the blow Plenty n***as broke, plenty homicides Plenty mommas cry, yeah we wonder why Stress on my thoughts, blowing weed out my jaws Four-five n***as riding five deep in the car Choppers in the trunk, choppers in the front Catch a n***a slipping, then we taking what we want Gang affiliated, a lot of n***as hating cause a n***a red, steady beaming like a laser Product of my environment, can't help where I came from Watts, California where a n***a got his game from Name from, what it do? Go ahead and blaze one Be patient my n***a, we gon' ball when the day come Disrespect the click, then I guess we gotta take one Haters throw salt, so I guess we gotta shake something I guess we gotta shake something Haters throw salt, so I guess we gotta shake something So what's the word? [Chorus] [ScHoolboy Q] Uh, young 50, raw central kid Macks near f**ing lose your lip Probably see me on Figg, 81 bus stop Liquor stores and, hooker who*es and, needle poison Uh, everybody crooked Lights out, shooting ranges, sh** is dangerous Keep your shoes tied motherf**er sh**, it gets live motherf**er, sh**'s real Get your a** trampled in the field Youngin, should have let your muscle build Broken jaws, and them stars be the evidence Just another n***a tatted up upon my abdomen Y'all squabbles, gang meetings, set functions Have my sh** bumping Mid-central and Wayside stay jumping, we riding out Middle finger, f** the law, shoot they momma's house, hahah That's the word [Chorus] [Ab-Soul] G sh** G sh** G sh** We continue to bring you