Paroles de la chanson Hoover Street par Schoolboy Q

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Paroles de la chanson Hoover Street par Schoolboy Q

I got that work, fuck Labor Day
Just bought a gun, fuck 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
Meet me by the Acura 'cos 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 kill fo'
Then rewind my indo, then unroll my rillo
The bad guy never once been a hoes hero, he get zero
I said nada, bitch pass the cama

Uh, yeah

How'd it feel to be a real nigga?
I'm a product of a real nigga
La-la-la familia, real nigga
Get confronted by a real nigga
Fuck with one of my real niggas
It's on like night fall, summertime gotta ball
How'd it feel to be a real nigga?
It's on like night fall, summertime gotta ball
How'd it feel to be a real nigga
My whole life I've been a real nigga
La-la familia, real nigga
Get confronted by a real nigga
Fuck with one of my, real niggas
It's on like night fall, summertime gotta ball
How'd it feel to be a real nigga?

I done jumped off my ass, hit the lick and barely pass
But I quickly got to to ballin
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... uh, uh
Every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga
But... uh, uh
Click-clack, pow-pow, pow, boom, nigga
But... uh, uh
Meet Glock clock familia

Find a nigga realer than me, my socks stink

Eat so much pussy 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 Margiela's
Since a young nigga 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 shit
And everyday he still get a hit
Whether jacking radio's or sucking dick
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 fucking with work

Now let's re-rewind it, answer my church
Times getting harder than my dick on a growth spurt
Around the same time all you niggas was on purp
My sober ass was snatching her purse
Make the ice cream truck freeze
Give me the keys, extra Frito's, chili and cheese
[?] in his eyes before I leave
The cops'll never get the leak
Grandma taught me well and my uncle gun was the accessories
2011 sipping plus a robbery
This little Piggy went to market
This little Piggy carry chrome

I done jumped off my ass, hit the lick and barely pass
But I quickly got to to ballin

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... uh, uh
Every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga
But... uh, uh
Click-clack, pow-pow, pow, boom, nigga
But... uh, uh
Meet Glock clock familia

Grandma said she loved me, I told her I loved her more
She always got me things that we couldn't afford
The new J's and Tommy Hill in my drawers

Sega Genesis, Nintendo 64
[?] 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, he wife done left him and now he living with us
My bike is missing, grandma light a hotter chick every month
My uncle's nuts, he used to give me Whisky to piss 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 ''nigga, know who you dealing with''
Them was the good days 'til I was raised the older ways
Rat-Tone my niggas' brother showed me my first K
I was amazed, me and Floyd was in the back, he called us over like ''ay''
''Yawk, yawk, yawk, yawk'' - we like ''damn, nigga''
Then again - ''yawk, yawk'' - we like ''damn, nigga''
Hearing him say cuz turned us to a fan, nigga
Later on he got locked so know we're taking his fades
Continue the chapter from his life, we flipping that page
Gangbanging was a ritual and grandma would help
She should've never left her gun on the shelf

This little Piggy went to market
This little Piggy carry chrome

I done jumped off my ass, hit the lick and barely pass
But I quickly got to to ballin
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... uh, uh
Every last one of us had a pistol in the room, nigga
But... uh, uh
Click-clack, pow-pow, pow, boom, nigga
But... uh, uh
Meet Glock clock familia

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