Artist: Smoke DZA f/ Mara Hruby, Kendrick Lamar Album: The Hustler's Catalog Song: How Far We Go (Uptown 81) Typed by: newos_crib_is@hotmail.com [Smoke DZA] Right, gather round hustlers, that's if ya still living and get on down with this T.H.C. vision The last of a dying breed, too many wack artists So tell 'em PaRappa the Rapper niggas rap harder Like being garbage, some type of disease I take 'em out they misery, make it harder to breathe Ain't no problem to me, call me Father MC Pay homage to a God, bitch fall on your knees Hood booger, wannabe housewife gassed off nini Hot sadiddy needy, try to emulate the TV But this real, fuck how you feel Call of Duty mode with these verses, lot of kills First niggas doubted the flow, now how you feel? If this was back in the days, you'd get a lot of gills Gimme mines, I really rhyme, yep, really I'm one of the illest niggas doing it, or these niggas is losing it, silly minds They try to style on a New York nigga like my flow ain't cold like a New York winter I don't stunt, I regulate, seen empires separate Best friends kill best friends every day for petty sake, not even heavyweight, it's never good There's a Rich Porter story in every hood, DZA [Chorus: Smoke DZA] + (backing vocals by Mara Hruby) No matter how far we go We forever be real, we'll never fold Know my niggas stay down, we all we know We gotta get it so we live it Just remember what we do and won't stop [Kendrick Lamar] My turbulence put a burden on young herbs Once it's cracking, it's a chain reaction minus Yung Berg I'm on the verge of excellence, kill 'em off with no evidence Take a shot at the Exorcist, then X 'em out with these words Panoramic views be tumbling out of my mind This ain't 1992, bullets tumbling out no nines Big AKs like Alicia Keys abbreviated and nowadays niggas stand behind 'em like Clive Davis Clyde Drexler, before the hood got dribbled niggas right up on that stretcher An understatement said that K. Lamar was under pressure Don't press your luck when I'm pressed for time cause when the press get this verse, they sure to press rewind The president's prayer can't save us in my cul-de-sac There's codeine, crack and Cognac, enough violence to keep the Devil smiling while we whyling on them corners with the ropes and rats Nigga build a trap house, hope his homie don't run his trap See the Feds and tap out, that's wrestler shit Don't rest your case as a gangster just cause you wrestled your bitch We move in silence like the potato tip when we riding And we ride rotten, two choppers found thirty sirens You ain't been where I been, I know where I'm going, and life's a bitch I know that she hoeing, I know that I'm sewing what I reap And know that I'm flowing like water from sea or water from creek And if I don't speak, I know you ain't growing cause I'm a leader, respect it when you see him Accepted by your new bitch, your old bitch and your B.M. Y'all always on that B.S., and P.S. I'm taking all things I'm taking off first, this G6 is on its way, what's up?! Kendrick, Kendrick Lamar [Chorus 2X]