[Verse 1: Terrace Martin]
Doin' fifty on the shore, Range no tags
Punch pulled up, Kendrick in the back
A Da Bu$iness in that rag, Phantom on feet
And Problem in the diamond light pushin' that GT
Hood niggas with class, give respect where it's due
Came up with one boo and that was just to stay true
True to my music and everything that I do
Instead of practicing me you should focus on doin' you
So nigga fuck yo crew, what you wanna do?
Wack emcees never get no love I'm not enthused
And you can save all ya non-creative point of views
Cause me? I'mma produce and you just reducing ya crew
Now how I'm 'posed to work if I ain't gettin' paid?
Gotta call Terrace Martin if you can't call Dre
Now with that bein' said there is nothin' else to say
Was already understood, doesn't have to be explained
If it was never lost, how could it be saved?
I do this for my soul, I do this for LA
I do this for the love, man I do it for the game
And the memory of Miles Davis and John Coltrane
How could you blame them bastards, when they ain't have no raisin'?
They don't want no higher learning, they stick to the basics
And they don't wanna work for that white devil cause he racist
Neglected of knowledge, that's all they know, how could you blame 'em?
And I hate to say it but I had to as a man
We cooperated with 'em and fell victim to they plan
And after losin' Malcolm and Martin they scared to take a stand
If I call 'em pussy it's some bullshit, when will it end
So I don't really care 'bout who they say who is the best
All I know is that it shows within my music and my checks
I swear this is the best thing next to havin' sex
Geek smashed on niggas won't let my foot up off they necks, yep
[Verse 2: Problem]
Huh, strap it on me and let me solidify
And purposely intertwine, my positive thoughts apply in genocide
Compton communists are, shiftily, in peace
Whoever's in charge like Charles no sit-com
Beat him like a kick drum
Rip a hole from his lips to where the nigga shit from
Compton, Cali nigga!
It's all music, rule-less
Like a Ali fight, pushin' Al Green or Barry White
Boy this Cali life's amazin'
Palm trees, bomb weed and bitches
All my aprons and rubber gloves went cookin' in hell's kitchen
Bustin' shots that could crack back spleens
The lil rapper that could commercialize the backpack scene
Who sick? Boy, shit ... I'm vaccine on flight green
Paper planin' on the plane in first class, mad?
Because I'm on the bubble of success
Stressed over life, street still pokin' out my chest
Bitches love my confidence, I wear it like a vest
Sippin' Rosé Moët, drinkin' 'til I'm lost
Hustlin' everyday, bail away my thoughts
Anticipatin' the win but, ready for the loss
Got her livin' like a boss; Tony Danza, been bananas
Since the red rags of bustin' out a stanzas
Problem, answer, not one found!
Mayweather couldn't box me into one sound, he wouldn't last one round!
My songs' clever, my pen's better, than ever
A trendsetter with a vendetta...
Big bag of chips on my shoulder standin' tall like a soldier
Snakes in the grass I laugh dodgin' the cobras!
Scraped from the past, we amped wantin' the Kobra
"I'm far gone mommy," "Relax baby, it's over,"
Money pile coma, rovin' in the Range
Be it dope takin' its toll please have exact change, MOTHERFUCKER!!
[Interlude:]
Yeah, this is DJ Fuck Wack Emcees
Comin' to you straight off Crenshaw
That was Problem comin' straight outta Compton
Next up is A Da Bu$iness, South Central's finest
He cold yo...
[Verse 3: A Da Bu$iness]
Uh, salutations and greetings to all
Of my celestrial stars, gather 'round, get one out
We 'bout to witness the Big Dipper
Intergalactic astronomical avenue business man, finish him
Raining fatalities cause I'm like Vegeta said
Light 'em up make you feel like six million megawatts
My momma still wonder why I don't think straight
Run this shit like a relay, run that back like a replay
Come off the bench and will win and T balls like I'm Ebanks
Is ya swagga hand-me-down, where'd you get that shit off eBay?
Been bleedin' 'em since we was orderin' Jordans off of Eastbay
Bang (*gunshot*) that's what the heat say, in the game call me EA
Da billion dollar Bu$iness fuck the witness and the DA!
Let's raise aware-wolves, vampires, like the shit gets spookiest
Monsterous, zoo in the movie we call it the 'zoovie'...
Where they smart to come out he wearin' under that tool
From a cold winter degrees that's hotter than juvie
Ain't new to gangbangin' so all that gangsta shit don't move me
Fuck yo tats, know inside you's a bitch
And no matter how you dress we still sit through all of that shit
So fly I'm never taintin' you maggots still on my shit
I need a pooper scooper!
Little Mario don't care if you off a flower
No star I'll take ya princess for ransom I'm King Kooper nigga!
And this heat'll spit faster than a cheetah sprint
Dragonball, Super Saiyan on my Vegeta shit
A fact-avist and I ain't talkin' no civil rights and shit
Kickstand leanin' in Secret Sundays, with a ratchet bitch
I South Centralized the game with my hustlin' spirit
And Terrace Martin mastered me, so I know you hear it...
Da Bu$iness...
[Interlude:]
Put three fingers in the air
And say the word HiiIPower
Kendrick:
[Verse 4: Kendrick Lamar]
Five star general in a G ride
Got my seat back, chiefin' like a Seminole, no centerfold
But picture that, picture me, picture Terrace, picture P
Takin' shit from some nigga that shit right there sound dumb nigga
We gotta post stay in the street, take what we deserve and yeah I
Serve on any artist that's my word that y'all are targets
I'm retarded on the mic, Special Ed.,
And bitch I call you special when you give up special head
I gotta feelin' it's gon' be a lot of killings Kendrick
Cause when I spit a verse I bring a hearse to every sentence
And put it in reverse and try to decode it
They on my dick and deep-throat it
They don't know it but boy I am a henchman, for hire
I require wack emcees, tell 'em that I'm burnt like 'Swap Meet' DVDs
Tell 'em that I earnt my respect on what you didn't do!
Ain't nothin' difficult your admiration's pitiful! Shame on you twice
Life's a gamble so I'm comin' out the gate with tricked dice
7-11, 7-11, backed on that
It's been a long time comin' since I bodied a track
I'm back up in this bitch like the ass and pussy was fat
I put my city on the map like I represent a post
Comp-town soldier, welcome to Iraq
Be ready for combat, or die on your sofa
Brains on the plastic, yo stains on the cabinet
YUCK! And if I fell off goddamn I would prob'ly land in a deep thought
A nigga need Spam for the shit y'all brought
I go 'H•a•m' in the Brougham bank corners like I'm Moss, fuck!
Headed to the coroner
I'm one of ya your run is up my gun is TEC I'm comin' for the
Common sense of commentators that say I don't love enough well
Y'all some haters tie 'em up and kill 'em later I am such a
Horror-vator I am so messed up to be replyin' and
Whatever favors mine are sick and hold up player I is fighting
Any favors I invite in meaning lasers beaming off the
Sun until I have a son and see you later motherfucker...
SSL (Solid Sound Logic) was written by Kendrick Lamar & A Da Bu$iness & Problem & Terrace Martin.
Terrace Martin released SSL (Solid Sound Logic) on Wed Jun 06 2012.