Black HippyJay Rock

[Intro: Kendrick Lamar + Jay Rock]
Let 'em die, dead—Black Hippy
Pfffft—and we don't give a fuck
Hell, nah, nigga
This conglomerate so cool, Rock, we could freeze L.A., nigga
Black Hippy
Kendrick Lamar
I tell 'em like this:

[Verse 1: Kendrick Lamar + ScHoolboy Q + Jay Rock + Ab-Soul]
Ring the alarm or wake to a bomb
You ain't a rapper, you Elton John, holdin' your john
I got a ton of croutons in the Louis Vuitton
That's big bread the chickens are flying flocks when I call 'em
Paul and Masson, half drunk, stuck in a poem
Light matches underwater while I'm bracing the storm
I'm cool and I'm calm, laid back, smoking a farm
Socking the shit out of niggas till I'm breaking my arm
Up in my zone, two blunts, cup of patron
.45 on me, shoot you if you fuck with me wrong
No homo'—pause—that's your life and it's gone
Flat line you, don't put your life in the song
I never drove a fast car—I almost ran over
Tracy Chapman, she said, "Drive slow," I said, "Fuck off"
Ab-Soul—wha'sup, y'all? Other than your sub-par
Above all? I'm a heaven gate—above all
Fuckin' great, and every time we in the stu'?

[Chorus: ScHoolboy Q + Kendrick Lamar + Jay Rock]
We cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack
Yeah, homie—this is what we do
3-1-0 shit, 3-2-3, bitch
Ow, nigga, welcome to the zoo, where we—
Cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack
Yeah, homie—this is what we do
3-2-3 shit, 3-1-0, bitch

[Verse 2: Jay Rock + Kendrick Lamar + ScHoolboy Q + Ab-Soul]
The Black Hippies, the bag full, the bag empty
Spunt it all at the car lot, then crash quickly
I'm tryna come with enough power to pass 50
I'm talking 50-bill, you niggas don't fit the bill
You niggas don't keep it real, you fake as Pamela's titties
I pound kitties, then hit the club with dogs with me
Tan Polos, no socks, chop Dickies
Tan coupe, no top, bumping Biggie
Blowing sticky, before the group, been a hippy
Nifty fifty, all blue—real Crippy
Big money, long stocks—ask Pippy
Mask on, one sock—I gets busy
I smoke blacks, relax, and watch Walt Disney
Puff squares, pace in circles until I'm dizzy
Speakin' of Disney—fantasies, I had many
I used to hate on Mickey Mouse 'cause he had Minnie
Anyway—every time we in the stu'?

[Chorus: ScHoolboy Q + Kendrick Lamar + Jay Rock]
We cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack
Yeah, homie—this is what we do
3-1-0 shit, 3-2-3, bitch
Ow, nigga, welcome to the zoo, where we—
Cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack
Yeah, homie—this is what we do
3-2-3 shit, 3-1-0, bitch

[Verse 3: ScHoolboy Q + Jay Rock + Kendrick Lamar + Ab-Soul]
Ahhhhhhh!
Napped through my final, made enough, richer than Lionel
Fuckin' bitches on my job—cummin' harder than rhino
Break through the spinal, laid back, bumpin' my vinyl
Navigation on the scopes, easy to find 'em
Find you and I'm right behind you—laid back, puffin' a blunt
Gat on my lap, constantly talkin' shit, I'mma dump
Your homies acting charged up, they can still get jumped
Take ya chain, ash the kush for all you punks
However you want, whenever you want, you all can get it
Contagious, it's mad syphilis, blazing this God-giftedness
Die over death sentences, flow hot—plus the beat knock
Like J-witnesses, tell 'em I killed the witnesses
Gifted as twenty Christmases, itchin' to blow
Like twenty bitches with mouths that need a dick in it—wow
I ran rap for half a mile then got tired
Laid down and realized that I was lying
You fuckin' crazy!
Ha—and every time we in the stu'?

[Chorus: ScHoolboy Q + Kendrick Lamar + Jay Rock]
We cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack
Yeah, homie—this is what we do
3-1-0 shit, 3-2-3, bitch
Ow, nigga, welcome to the zoo, where we—
Cook that, chop that—what's that? That's crack
Yeah, homie—this is what we do
3-2-3 shit, 3-1-0, bitch