| Kill him where he stand or stand over him shake his hand
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| Then jump back in that mini van, double back to his block
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| And blam I ain’t backing down for nothing
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| I’m a back em down like Shaq with this black 2−2-3 in my hand
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| Better pray that this chopper jam, like a radio single, man
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| Police radio signals sayin' that a 187 land on your corner,
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| Coroners comfort your mama, mama he’s dead,
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| The next morning high toasted up with my homies
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| We drink and smoke marijuana, want us to change our ways? |
| Uh-huh
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| You see this game we play come from uncles that raised me in Compton
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| Ask me what I have accomplished
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| I don’t know I don’t have conscience
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| I just load up and start dumpin' on enemies I’m head hunting
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| No sympathy, ain’t no love when you in these streets just get something
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| Protect ya neck cause they comin' for set respects split your onion
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| Then chop your deck your head tumblin' like gymnastics
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| Cause ignorance is bliss
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| This the hardest shit you’ve heard from LA this far
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| And I’m this far, from a discharge but never will I dish off
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| We all tryna ball and when I got the rock I’ll dish off
|
| Until the day I pistol whip you posers till ya’ll pissed off
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| Then peel off, in a hooptie
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| Come back and make these niggas wanna shoot me
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| And they bitches wanna salute me or seduce me
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| Indubitably I’m too street
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| Indubitably I’m a do me
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| Better than your bitch would
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| But you niggas too weak, but just give me 2 weeks
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| And I’m good
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| I’ll make an album that’ll put a smile on Malcolm
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| Make Martin Luther tell God I’m the future for Heaven’s talent
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| No tarot card reading I’m foreseeing you niggas vanish
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| Not only from the rap game, I’m including the planet
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| Cats so watered down clowns can sink Titanic
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| Tie titanium around their neck and watch em panic
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| Give me respect, dammit, or get damaged
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| Die young, corpse identified by your parents
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| Apparently you a parrot
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| Mocking me and my blueprint
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| But I won’t share it just make you cop it then call you a sheriff
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| Stop it, I’m hearin' the comments
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| The critics are calling me conscious
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| But truthfully, every shooter be callin' me Compton
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| So truthfully, only calling me Kweli and Common?
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| Proves, that ignorance is bliss
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| And this still the hardest shit you’ve heard from LA this far
|
| And I’m this far, from a discharge but never will I dish off
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| This my world, I grab the universe then play kickball
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| And they wonder why these California earthquakes hit so hard
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| I’m so-Cal, you so called
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| Rappers need to go call
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| Ghostbusters to shoot busters I’m Casper when I go off
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| I show up, to show out to show off
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| You a hundred percent behind me
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| And if you hard then wreck your car and walk up to my crime scene
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| I remember being 17 wishing someone would sign me
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| Now the only way these labels get me back is when they rewind me
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| Backin' down boggins
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| Backin' down bitches
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| We gon' flip her once she off that blue dolphin
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| You gon' tip her
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| Cause ignorance is bliss
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| And Willy B I’m a fool on yo beats, I bleed out the speaker
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| As the speaker that spoke when they done speak |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ignorance Is Bliss, artist - Kendrick Lamar. Album song Overly Dedicated, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп