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not like us (live at kia forum) - kendrick lamar lyrics

[part i]

[intro: dr. dre & kendrick lamar]
yeah
hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold on, dre
you ain’t gon’ say, you ain’t gon’ say nothing else before, you know
we continue the party?
yeah, okay
i’m gonna just need a moment of silence for this one
psst, i see dead people
(mustard on the beat, ho)

[verse 1]
hey, mustard on the beat, ho
deebo any rap n*gga, he a free throw
man down, call a amberlamps, tell him, “breathe, bro”
nail a n*gga to the cross, he walk around like—
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
finna spazz on this body, i’m john stockton
beat your ass and hide the biblе if god watchin’
sometimes you gotta pop out and show n*ggas
certifiеd boogeyman, i’m the one that up the score with ’em
walk him down, whole time, i know he got some—
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 li’l 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 real case, why is he around?
certified lover boy? certified pedo*style
(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
[part ii]

[intro]
yeah, yeah
also, y’all ain’t gon’ let n0body disrespect the west coast, huh?

let’s try it again
(psst, i see dead people)
(mustard on the beat, ho)

[verse 1]
hey
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 t**zo
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
finna pass on this body, i’m john stockton
say it!
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
[part iii]

[intro]
*overlapping chants of “one more time” and “ov*ho”*
one more time
(psst, i see dead people)
we got the dj motherf*cking mustard, hold up
run it back!
you sure?
go on, one more
(psst, i see dead people)
who is he? who is he?
(mustard on the beat, ho)

[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 t**zo
what’s up with these jabroni*ass n*gga, they 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 hop 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 n*gga 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]
ayy
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 foui, i don’t know why you still pretendin’
what is the owl? bird n*ggas and bird 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 v*g*n*l option”? p*ssy
n*gga better straighten they posture, i got famous all up in compton
might write this for the doctorate, tell the pop star quit hidin’
f*ck a caption, no action, accident
and i’m hands*on, he f*ck around, get polished
f*cked on wayne girl while he was in jail, that’s connivin’
get his face tatted like a b*tch apologizin’
i’m glad deroz’ came home, y’all didn’t deserve him neither
alondra down to central, n*gga better not speak on serena
and your homeboy need subpoena, that predator move in flocks
that name gotta be registered and placed on neighborhood watch
i lean on you n*ggas like another line of wock’
all eyes on me, and i’ma send it up to pac (ayy)
put the wrong label on me, i’ma get ’em dropped (ayy)
sweet chin music and i won’t pass the aux (ayy)
how many stocks do i really have in stock? (ayy)
one, two, three, four, five, plus five (ayy)
devil is a lie, he a 69 god (ayy)
freaky*ass n*ggas need to stay they ass inside (ayy)
ayy, my n*gga (ayy)
ahh, outside (ayy)
hold up, la, tap in this motherf*cker

[chorus]
ayy
they not like us, they not like us, they not like us
yeah
they not like us, they not like us, they not like us

[verse 3]
ayy, once upon a time, all of us was enslaved
homie still doubled down callin’ us some slaves
atlanta was the mecca, buildin’ railroads and trains
bear with me for a second, let me put y’all on game
the white men was usin’ townfolk to make ’em richer
fast*forward, 2024, you got the same agenda
i run to atlanta when you need a, ah
ayy, you called future when you didn’t see the club
lil baby helped you get your lingo up
21 gave you false street cred
thug made you feel like you a slime in your head
hahahaha, just—
you run to atlanta when you need a check balance
no, you not a colleague, you a f*ckin’ colonizer
the family matter and the truth of the matter
it was god’s plan to show y’all the liar

[bridge]
ayy, what [?] is that?
what [?] is that? here we go
he a fan, he a fan, he a fan
ayy
freaky*ass n*gga, he the 69 god
freaky*ass n*gga, he a 69 god
hey, hey, hey, hey, run for your life
hey, hey, hey, hey, run for your life
freaky*ass n*gga, he the 69 god
freaky*ass n*gga, he the 69 god
hey, hey, hey, hey, run for your life
hey, smack, let me hear you say
hey, hey, hey, hey, run for your life
“ov*ho” (ov*ho)
“ov*ho” (ov*ho)
then step, step
then step, step

[outro]
are you my friend?
are we locked in?
then step, step
then step, step
hold on, yeah
bring my n*gga up, bring my n*gga up
hold on, yup
uh*huh
are you my friend?
are we locked in?
then step this way, step that way
then step this way, dee

[part iv]

[intro]
(psst, i see dead people)
(mustard on the beat, ho)

[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 t**zo
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

- kendrick lamar lyrics

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