Artist: ScHoolboy Q f/ Ab-Soul, Jay Rock Album: Setbacks Song: What's the Word Typed by: newos_crib_is@hotmail.com [ScHoolboy Q] Uh, go hard for the squad like, bam! Spray with a stain on it (shit) Flamed out the nozzle, at it full throttle Acting hyena, black ninas Uh, it's young niggas heating up Phoenix Top Dawg familiar, crept with a Dillinger in my fifth pocket, chump niggas stop it Say you pressing who? Fuck around and get a tattoo Have me dumping out the sunroof Consequences you done ran through Caught his ass slipping looking pretty in them sandals Keep the gangster to the streets, you know the shit was handled Ten speed, handle bar shit, Astro fit Hopped off with a message in a clip Inbox read (third verse), hitting till the third I'll be back up on the curb, what's the word, word, word, word, word? [Chorus: Ab-Soul] + (ScHoolboy Q) We continue to bring you nothing but that true gang- -ster shit you can move to, groove to, ooooh (What's the word? What's the word? What's the word?) We continue to bring you nothing but that true shit, G shit [Jay Rock] Never had much, always had heart Always had guts, I don't give a fuck I ride like a bus, heavy with my flows while my niggas in the spot, heavy with the blow Plenty niggas broke, plenty homicides Plenty mommas cry, yeah we wonder why Stress on my thoughts, blowing weed out my jaws Four-five niggas riding five deep in the car Choppers in the trunk, choppers in the front Catch a nigga slipping, then we taking what we want Gang affiliated, a lot of niggas hating cause a nigga red, steady beaming like a laser Product of my environment, can't help where I came from Watts, California where a nigga got his game from Name from, what it do? Go ahead and blaze one Be patient my nigga, we gon' ball when the day come Disrespect the click, then I guess we gotta take one Haters throw salt, so I guess we gotta shake something I guess we gotta shake something Haters throw salt, so I guess we gotta shake something So what's the word? [Chorus] [ScHoolboy Q] Uh, young 50, raw central kid Macks near fucking lose your lip Probably see me on Figg, 81 bus stop Liquor stores and, hooker whores and, needle poison Uh, everybody crooked Lights out, shooting ranges, shit is dangerous Keep your shoes tied motherfucker Shit, it gets live motherfucker, shit's real Get your ass trampled in the field Youngin, should have let your muscle build Broken jaws, and them stars be the evidence Just another nigga tatted up upon my abdomen Y'all squabbles, gang meetings, set functions Have my shit bumping Mid-central and Wayside stay jumping, we riding out Middle finger, fuck the law, shoot they momma's house, hahah That's the word [Chorus] [Ab-Soul] G shit G shit G shit We continue to bring you