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hoover street (original version) - schoolboy q lyrics

hoover street (original version) lyrics
[part 1]

[verse]
i got that work, f*ck labor day, just bought a gun
f*ck punching in
throwing rocks, no hopscotch
bet my 9 milli’ hit the right spot
bang!… last night it was a dream
this morning a fantasy back when the only fan i had was a fiend
(huhhuhhuh*huhhuh!)
meet me by the acura, cause the cops like
to get help from the store camera, they always in my cornea
but it’s cool, i’ve been catching on to they formula
see i’m a real loc, my street sign i’ll k!ll fo’
then rewind my indo, then unroll my rillo
the bad guy, never once been a ho’s hero
he get zero, i said nada, b*tch pass the ‘cama (uh, yeah)

[chorus]
how’d it feel to be a real n*gga? (i’m a product of a real n*gga)
la*la familia (get confronted by a real n*gga)
f*ck with one of my real n*ggas
(sunlight, night fall, summertime gotta ball)
how’d it feel to be a real n*gga?
(sunlight, night fall, summertime gotta ball)
how’d it feel to be a real n*gga (my whole life i’ve been a real n*gga)
la*la familia (get confronted by a real n*gga)
f*ck with one of my real n*ggas
(it’s on like night fall, summertime gotta ball)
how’d it feel to be a real n*gga?
[part 2]

[chorus]
i done jumped up off my ass
hit the l!ck and barely passed but i quickly got to balling
2012 ain’t really happen
so i guess it’s back to trapping, eyes open night to morning
had roaches in my cereal
my uncle stole my stereo, my grandma can’t control him
but… every last one of us had a pistol in the room, n*gga
but… cl!ck*clack, pow*pow*pow (boom, n*gga)
but… me glock clock familia (boom)

[verse 1]
find a n*gga realer than me, my socks stink (yeah)
eat so much p*ssy that my mustache pink
strapping, my pants seam, no need for a belt, gangsta lean help
hoodie on backwards, with the eyes cut out
my hate felt my .45 elder, poetry’s deep
i never fail ya, schoolboy bust flame
orange*yellow higher than margielas, since a young n*gga
i admired the crack sellers, seen my uncle steal
from his mother, now that’s the money that i’m talking ’bout
think about it, the smoker ain’t got sh*t and everyday
he still get a hit, whether jacking radios or sucking d*ck
sell his kids and chop his wrists and sealing his lips
cause he don’t want the feds arresting his fix, didn’t take much
to get me convinced, coincidence that i ain’t f*cking with work
unless we rewind, and answer my church
times getting harder, than my d*ck on a growth spurt
around the same time, all you n*ggas was on purp, my sober ass was sn*tching her purse, make the ice cream truck
freeze! give me the keys, extra fritos, chili and
cheese! threw some baby lucas in his eyes, before i
leave! the cops’ll never get the lead, grandma taught me well
and my uncle gun, was the accessory, 211 sipping, plus a robbery
[refrain]
this little piggy went to market, this little piggy carry chrome

[verse 2]
grandma said she loved me, i told her i loved her more
she always got me things, that we couldn’t afford
the new js and tommy hill in my drawers
sega genesis, nintendo 64, see golden eye was away at war
we wasn’t thinking of getting money then
nor did i wonder why, my uncle done sold his benz
cause he been tripping now, he sweats a lot and slimming down
i also notice moms be locking doors, when he around
but anyways, his wife done left him and now he living with us
my bike is missing, grandma like to hide her check every month
my uncle’s nuts, he used to give me whiskey to p*ss in cups
knocking on the door telling me to “hurry up!”, he in a rush
i gave it to him, then got my ass whipped for doing it
moms used to tell me like, “n*gga, know who you dealing with.”
them was the good days ,’til i was raised the older ways
rat*tone, my n*gga’s brother showed me my first k
i was amazed, me and floyd was in the back
he called us over like * hey!
yawk, yawk, yawk, yawk! we like *”daaaaaamn, n*gga”
then again * yawk, yawk! we like, “daaaaaamn, n*gga!”
hearing him say “cuz'”, turned us to a faaaaaan, n*gga!
later on he got locked, so now we’re taking his fades
continue the chapter from his life, we flipping that page
g*ngb*nging was a ritual and grandma would help
she should’ve never left her gun on the shelf
[refrain]
this little piggy went to market, this little piggy carry chrome

[produced by sounwave]

- schoolboy q lyrics

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