| All the real smokers get me H.O.C
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| All the real smokers get me H.O.C
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| All the real smokers get me H.O.C
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| All the real smokers get me H.O.C
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| Everybody know I spit that other shit
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| Shit that make you duck for cover shit
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| Shit that make you hop out your seat and slap your mother shit
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| Especially when Drop drop the beat
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| I drop jewels like my nuts dropped out of my briefs
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| Jump in the booth and shatter every rapper’s dream
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| They jump in a sauna because I killed their self-esteem
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| That’s a jab, you should bob and weave
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| Like Pam when Martin pulled jokes out his sleeve
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| I go in studio sessions and feel like a nerd
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| Cause I’m the only nigga there not smoking no herb
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| You telling me the kush make you think on level four?
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| I’m on five, you saying that I can level more?
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| In high school, my teachers thought I was smoking stress
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| Didn’t know my eyes low cause of genetic defects
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| I stimulate my mind every time I think about the end of time
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| Creation of man, and Columbine
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| Bet you think that this some high shit that I wrote
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| Probably think I’m off the kush or the hydro
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| (Nope) I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| I really appreciate that you share your Indo
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| But a sip of Henny is the farthest I would go
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| I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| Look, nowadays everybody think they’re big chiefers
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| Just cause they heard that new tape from Wiz Khalifa
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| Knowing damn well they can’t hit the sour
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| They’re new booties, they probably need baby powder
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| My skill shower over your city for 40 days
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| 40 nights, off the chain, like freedom of slaves
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| Before you get it twisted, like 40 gays
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| My flow worth the earth, that’s not to be appraised
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| Those the type of lines that I’m talking 'bout
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| You know the type of rhymes you don’t talk about
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| Copy my session on a disc when the session ends
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| So my momma can have it and play it for her friends
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| Brag on me, like «My son’s 'bout to win
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| Somehow, someday, and I don’t care when»
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| I might hit the gin once a month
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| I’ll let you inhale, like an atheist
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| Bet you think that this some high shit that I wrote
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| Probably think I’m off the kush or the hydro
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| (Nope) I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| I really appreciate that you share your Indo
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| But a sip of Henny is the farthest I would go
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| I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| I’ll take you back to the 9th grade
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| When Dough Boy had me high for 4 days
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| That’s my nigga, he a street nigga
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| Probably in your hood, fucking up your street, nigga
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| But anyway I think it was some purple
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| Told me «Don't hit it hard because it’ll hurt you»
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| I didn’t listen, I was floating like the Rose Parade
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| Swear to God a nigga seen some flying fishes
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| That was the Vegas trip, Hooters sponsored
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| The same time I start writing like a fucking monster
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| I’m Frankenstein every time this mothafucker ponders
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| Just underline every letter, capital K-D-O-T
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| Laying it flat out, like a tire with slow leaks
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| Now what you 'bout? |
| Nothing huh
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| Am I a square cause I don’t puff a square?
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| Are my raps too blunt to hit the blunt? |
| Yeah
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| Bet you think that this some high shit that I wrote
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| Probably think I’m off the kush or the hydro
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| (Nope) I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
|
| I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
|
| I really appreciate that you share your Indo
|
| But a sip of Henny is the farthest I would go
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| I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| I don’t even smoke, I don’t even smoke
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| All the real smokers give me H.O.C
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| (Bitch I’m blowed!) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song H.O.C , by - Kendrick Lamar. Song from the album Overly Dedicated, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп