| Midwest nigga in the West
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| Red Corvette speeding down sunset
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| Ski mask, black Tec pulling through the set
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| Gang signs and palm trees, bomb weed and becks
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| Mentality complex, conscious but get vexed
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| Over gangster instrumentals, instrumental to the rap game
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| Yeah the aim simple, target the lame and stay in the lane
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| As I dip through the ghetto with metal rings and coke gets peddled
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| The sun gon' shine 'em all after the smoke settles
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| My mom’s blood levels is high
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| Her son high ridin' 'round with the devils so she pray to Allah
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| Hoping the demons gon' let go
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| I hustle for these C-notes, tuck drugs in my pea coat
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| Dipping from the RICO watching people through the peephole
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| A wolf in sheep’s clothes, hear no evil and I speak no
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| Word to dangerous minds, spend no time with a weak soul
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| Spiritual and lethal a deadly combination
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| Pulling on the joint trying not to break my concentration
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| They say the game is locked, I’m tryna bust the combination
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| They want me to tell the story but I ain’t for the conversation
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| So I’m contemplating, quit this rap ish or be blatant
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| And they all hating so I might just well stop faking
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| Like, I’m like them or I like them while I’m riding around with it
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| I guess I’mma pipe 'em
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| Murder one man down, I’m the man hands down
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| Ain’t nobody like him, that’s why I’m this way
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| It’s me against this world and I’m down for the play
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| Had the banger with 30 shots, nigga at 19
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| Had them cookies more fiends
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| Had a dream at 26, get it by all means
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| 2013 green
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| Couple O’s, couple K’s, couple Glocks
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| Bodies lay, couple yawks
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| A lot of homicide, Chevy slide on Pirellis
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| Full fur diamond blur, a young Jim Kelly
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| Million dollar phone calls on a black celly
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| Black power trying to escape Jack Bauer and the Federales
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| Rally stripe Monte
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| '03 going back to Cali in my dopemans
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| Starch tan khakis and my Raybans
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| Fly gangster, dirty niggas hate him
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| Fly chicks wanna date him cause I stay gold
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| Rubberband bankroll, load the Mac 11, let’s roll!
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| We gotta take mo', they got me on my mobbing ish
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| '99 stick-up kids, niggas came to rob
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| So lay down or get hit with these metal sticks
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| My niggas chop ten and shave bricks tryna escape Satan and housing bricks
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| So for freedom I’m
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| Malcolm in the Middle, I’m Malcolm Little with a ink pen
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| A long way from Malcolm-Jamal Warner living
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| No Theo Huxtable I hustle for my living
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| Never had to fit in in the survival of the fittest
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| A hustler told me if you riding, then you get in
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| No time to be a scary nigga today
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| If you out in these streets, you gotta be down for the play |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Nineteeneighty7 , by - ScHoolboy Q. Song from the album Know More (The Best of Stalley), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп