| Sometimes I wanna say fuck rapping, I need money now
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| Like should I start trapping?
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| If what I write down don’t collect this very moment
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| Then I’m on it, no question
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| In the streets, my niggas is well connected, let’s see
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| Do I cop a pound of kush, promethazine or push some E?
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| Oxycontin have me laying on soft cotton when I sleep?
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| This is deep as the abyss, I’m not just rhyming on the beat
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| I be in spots, chopping the rocks like Flintstone feet
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| This is me, frustrated, battling my own evils
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| Finna saddle up that work across Ohio in a Geo
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| Or should I sell my music .zip to buy your zip
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| And hope one day it flourish to a kilo
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| Track record of a hustler
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| Rather records on the needle, making music
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| Clocking fast bank like a shot from Patrick Ewing
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| My nigga, what you doing on these corners whipping?
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| «I thought you had a show?» |
| Well, my nigga, I guess I didn’t
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| I’m tryna get this dough, and easy money sounds tempting
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| Especially when your homies pushing V8 engines
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| Twenty-two on twenty-sixes, Range Rovers rolling up
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| Three-fifty for an ounce of fire, I hope I got enough
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| This industry calling my bluff, I need a new solution
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| Curb-serving, or I might be in your store boosting
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| Two-elevens with Mac-11s like fuck Hip Hop
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| Don’t wanna be Pun, don’t wanna be B.I.G., don’t wanna be Pac
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| Just give me your funds, A.K.A. |
| everything that you got
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| Or everything getting shot, for nothing
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| Leave you in shock, coughing up blood and mumbling
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| Watch, the plans of a young man sponsor
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| Moving grams like relocating your mom’s momma
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| Then expand to the Hoover dam, water, sherm
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| Contraband, they yearn for the butt-naked
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| Fuck a verse, verses get let off in thirty minutes, six seconds
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| I disperse to the world of unruly, where I put the mic down
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| And pick up a sack and a toolie, if you knew me
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| You’ll know I always had a passion for riddling, writing
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| But lately, I’ve been thinking 'bout taking chances to brighten
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| My future financially, so please don’t be mad at me
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| I gotta do what I gotta do, no shit
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| So I tell my nigga, «Front me, let me put it on the strip»
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| Then give it back when I think about the consequence
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| Shit…
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| There are times, when you need someone
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| I will be by your side
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| Oh darling, cause there is a light that shines
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| Special for you, and me yeah
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| I-take-I-take-take my chances-chances-chances
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| Before they pass, they pass, they pass
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| Pass me by, oh darling
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| You’ve got to look at the other side
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| R.O.T.C—Right On Time Conscience |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song R.O.T.C (Interlude) , by - Kendrick Lamar. Song from the album Overly Dedicated, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп