El Campo 2 lyrics
by Ab-Soul
[Intro: Ab-Soul]
[Verse 1: Ab-Soul]
They found me under the sea, with three dollars and sixty cents
So why would it make any sense for me to not make any since?
The curly head, black lipped kid
That works at Magic Disk, be on some sh*t
I take a stand then make you sit
You take a stand, and then you snitch
What part of the game is that, huh?
Pardon my frame of mind, but if you get out of line, it'll be a disaster
I make trips and pass out the most
Monumental rapper, don't ever go toe-to-toe
With who's over dosing on the antidote
Effortless, I wreck this sh*t
Ab-Soul-lutely definite
Bet your deficite, that you ain't testing it
I'm excellence on ecstasy
If you can fathom such a combo, off the Humboldt
Smellin' like I'm lightin' a pine cone
Feeling like my mind got caught in a cyclone
I should put a spell on you n*ggas, like a typo
TaeBeast, TDE, El Campo
Carson, K-I-N-G, Del Amo
[Verse 2: Schoolboy Q]
Uh, sittin' in my homeboy's apartment
In them dirty halls, burner in my dirty draws
Watch it! For the boys that want it all
Just got into altercation at the mall
But n*ggas know my protocol, ready for my homicide
Put me in a position to have my finger itchin'
Don't jump up in the game if you ain't ready for the kitchen
'Cause best believe the stove hot
Cooking up beef up in the box till my time stop
Barb wires and pig cops
Every door get into locks, phone ain't got no dial tone
Look up and the clouds gone, hungry and my child's gone
Solitary mindstate, push-ups help me stay straight
Noodles help maintain, reading helps me isolate
Troubles help me concentrate, enemies evacuate
Let me hyperventilate, hoping that my girl'll still be on it
And the motherf*ckers call me in the mornin'
(Roll it up!)
[Verse 3: Kendrick Lamar]
f*ck that sh*t, I'ma blow it up
f*ck that sh*t, I'ma load it up
Dump that clip, like a movie script
Whether blood or crip, I don't give a f*ck
I'ma live it up, my time is now
Time and time again, I got that sound
That'll drown, Titanic, in Atlantic's ocean
I'm hoping that they both go down
n*gga please, n*gga hand your b*tch your keys
So she can push your humvee
To my place we can smoke your weed
Pray to God that I'm not God, MC bumped in your iPod
Simply I am the CyHi of Centennial High, don't give me no tie
I ready made my business mine, decimals are definite
Deficate on music mates, and bet, I do it delicate-ly
Ignore your celiba-cy and then tell you f*ck you
Aye what the f*ck you want, my f*cking di*k, you f*cking c*nt
Get off my n-u-t, s, he, yes, got that unorthodox flow
n*ggas is trapped, they don't hold no grants but they call it 5-0
Smash in a El Dorado, whip it straight, till the Fender break
In the middle of the street, where the criminals be
While I blaze this heat from The TaeBeast.... Tape
[Outro: Kendrick Lamar]
Kendrick Lamar