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Artist: Smoke DZA f/ Mara Hruby, Kendrick Lamar
Album:  The Hustler's Catalog
Song:   How Far We Go (Uptown 81)
Typed by:

[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]