lirik lagu what the deal – kendrick lamar
[intro]
if i gotta ride, then youse gonna die
[verse 1]
i hope n-gg-s ain’t really tryna break my bones, ’cause if you are
make sure you know what nickname you want for that tombstone
play hard as a rock, bullets can break stones
beak bad boys down like jimmy did sean combs
i’m hot as an oven, you just a pressing comb
not impressed, homes, you should’ve stayed home
and pray that rooftop block you from getting sh-tted on
i gives a f-ck if a&r’s don’t pick up the phone
i swear it’s no one like me, but if it is
then i’ve got a long-lost twin, sort of made me a goon
i don’t care about friends, i was made to be on my own
i came in this world by myself, and i’m leaving alone
hopefully with a crib that i can call my own
with a backyard the size of the f-cking georgia dome, pop
you pop sh-t and i might pop your dome
give your homies a reason to make a memory stone
n-gg-s weird, they love when the beef is on
knowing that plummet time the only time he’ll roam
you’d better hold your breath, i’ll give you a walkthrough death
and recommend the gun being your chaperone
i know young n-gg-s that look up to al capone
and they look 17, but i swear that they mind is grown
i’m so grown, and the reason i write this way
‘pac and big ghostwriting my songs
you can play the boss, but if you get shot from being on top
then homie, that’s your loss
sh-t, i’m nice with it
i’ll pop your man then leave some money on him
so he can pay for his funeral costs (get it?)
these n-gg-s tryna get money like fort knox
either from the rap sh-t or back down to the cut rock
and you can play a baller
but deep inside you know you’re just an actor
yeah, something like rick ware
you ain’t a thug, homie, you just a fox
and i’m mr. werewolf somewhere in the boondocks
and i’m really from the street, so if i ask for beef, homie
don’t bring no pork chops
i’ll turn your skin to pork, homie, with one chop
with a rusty switchblade that’s dirty like b-ms’ socks
they say the flow is crack, so wherever i rap
best believe you can call it a dope spot, b-tch
i swear i’m gon’ ride… and he’s gotta die
b-tch, it’s that compton sh-t, n-gg-s
okay… okay…
money by any means, n-gg-…
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