Not Like Us / Rack City / ZEZE [Remix] [Mixed] lyrics

[Verse 1]
Ayy, Mustard on the beat, ho
Deebo any rap n*gga, he a free throw
Man down, call an amberlamps, tell him, "Breathe, bro"
Nail a n*gga to the cross, he walk around like Teezo
What's up with these jabroni-ass n*ggas tryna see Compton?
The industry can hate me, f*ck 'em all and they mama
How many opps you really got? I mean, it's too many options
I'm finna pass on this body, I'm John Stockton
Beat your ass and hide the Bible if God watchin'
Sometimes you gotta pop out and show n*ggas
Certified boogeyman, I'm the one that up the score with 'em
Walk him down, whole time, I know he got some ho in him
Pole on him, extort sh*t, bully Death Row on him
Say, Drake, I hear you like 'em young
You better not ever go to cell block one
To any b*tch that talk to him and they in love
Just make sure you hide your lil' sister from him
They tell me Chubbs the only one that get your hand-me-downs
And Party at the party playin' with his nose now
And Baka got a weird case, why is he around?
Certified Lover Boy? Certified pedophiles
Wop, wop, wop, wop, wop, Dot, f*ck 'em up
Wop, wop, wop, wop, wop, I'ma do my stuff
Why you trollin' like a b*tch? Ain't you tired?
Tryna strike a chord and it's probably A minor
[Chorus]
They not like us, they not like us, they not like us
They not like us, they not like us, they not like us

[Verse 2]
You think the Bay gon' let you disrespect Pac, n*gga?
I think that Oakland show gon' be your last stop, n*gga
Did Cole foul, I don't know why you still pretendin'
What is the owl? Bird n*ggas and burnt b*tches, go
The audience not dumb
Shape the stories how you want, hey, Drake, they're not slow
Rabbit hole is still deep, I can go further, I promise
Ain't that somethin'? B-Rad stands for b*tch and you Malibu most wanted
Ain't no law, boy, you ball boy, fetch Gatorade or somethin'
Since 2009, I had this b*tch jumpin'
You n*ggas'll get a wedgie, be flipped over your boxers
What OVO for? The "Other Vaginal Option"? pus*y
n*gga better straighten they posture, got famous all up in Compton
Might write this for the doctorate, tell the pop star quit hidin'
f*ck a caption, want action, no accident
And I'm hands-on, he f*ck around, get polished