Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Hoover Street, artist - ScHoolboy Q. Date of issue: 31.12.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Hoover Street |
| 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 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 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 |
| Threw some Baby Lucas in his eyes before I leave |
| The cops’ll never get the leak, grandma taught me well |
| And my uncle gun was the accessory, 211 sipping plus a robbery |
| This little Piggy went to market, this little Piggy carry chrome |
| 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, 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, 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 «Hey» |
| YAWK, YAWK, YAWK, YAWK! |
| We like «Damn, nigga» |
| Then again, YAWK, YAWK! |
| We like «Damn, nigga» |
| Hearing him say cause 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 |