The Best Rapper Alive Lyrics & Tabs by Kendrick Lamar
The Best Rapper Alive
guitar chords lyrics
Runnin' them ghetto streets, I ain't cookin' up nothin'
But I got that tea kettle on side of me, that metal on side me
I dare you to follow me, im double darin you to follow me where the drama be
His mamma in debt, so she can't pay the funeral fee
So wherever them candle at thats where the funeral be
Kids dont get sleep, guns keep em' up real late
Walk in the school shells layin on the concrete
Take em to school show and tell for that final grade
She gave him a F, I say that young boy deserve A
Cuz she never slept where he slept, or seen ricochet bullets rip
Through his cousins face rippin his face off
I aim the 5th straight, concentrate like im playin golf
Im tiger woods wit a gun in my car, I keep 1 in my car
And keep a bitch with implants, so she keep 1 in her bra, boom
Shit, make room for the lil basterd
Im tiger woods wit a gun in my car, I keep 1 in my car
And keep a bitch with implants, so she keep 1 in her bra, boom
Shit, make room for the lil basterd
The flyest nigga u seen on centenial campus
The 8 ball tucked in my jeans, while im gettin patted down
They didn't know I had it on me stupid security
Noone securin you, if im gone touch you
If I dont like you then my spur pump left
I take that back it prolly just wanna go and fuck you
Go wit you then dump you inside the coneal confortable
Defendin my belt dependin' on nobody but myself
Unless you talkin bout money I need yo help
I need some help they say that my screws is loose
Like handlebars on mongoose, this is true
Ya tough rappas im talkin to you
He ain't on no used to shit, but you see his face grew
He say that he fabulouse but really dont have a clue
That he just a puppy livin in this zoo
Shit, whoo, with that said you should know I am the truth
The truth hurts you should feel pain when im done with this
Done, sike I ain't finished
Ever since the first grade been bad wit the run up sentence
I never sat the benches in the game of life
I played the whole 48 minutes, christ
I rap with precision and lyrics is grandma nice
Im cookin up somethin you want you a slice? then get it
Im holdin my stomach im shittin' im fartin'
On any rappa thinkin im in his vision are you retarded
The CL got my head spinnin okward
Bought it last month bout to put it up for auction
Im not rappin im talkin powerfull
And for dat dirty money boy the mac'll shower you
The mac desenegrate and then devour you
The mag forget you regurgitate and sour you
I world trade you niggas north and south tower you
Steroid my authority overpower you, the industry ain't affordin me
The might as well just give me my money and start ignoring me
Cuz yal niggas borin me, yal ain't makin dollas plus no cents
I swear yal niggas foreign to me foreignas
I tell ya what go and tell it to the corenor
Killin' em whenever my preformance come
When I do it it won't be nothin right after im done
When I ruin niggas careers put you niggas in tears
Get ya palm palms ya better off cheer for me
Shit the new money is here for me
