Young Seattle Part 3

[Verse 1: Sam Lachow]
(Uh, uh)
(Here we go)
Young Seattle (Woo)
Part 3, c’mon
Where you at?
I’ve been gone for the winter
Back stage ring leader, kill ‘em all in a minute
Huckleberry slim pickin’s, it was all inconsiderate
Fuck em
They need me like a plug to a clucka
Now where you at?
I don’t know anymore
My whole posse came through the party when she open the door
And if you down with the freak, I’ll be your man for the week
They mess around behind your back, ya call me Sammy La-cheat (Ha ha)
Now where you at?

[Verse 2: Jarv D]
Probably somewhere I shouldn’t be
Basking in marijuanas while laughin’ at those ain’t feelin me
How he gon’ kill my vibe?
He cannot match my energy
Nigga you’re not offending me, please don’t catch no injury
Name tat on a couple of bitches, they gon’ remember me
Your music so forgettable, waste of space in my memory (Oh)
Do this shit for fun, but nigga we getting’ funds
While these haters lookin stupid throwin shade up on the sun
I’m with my gang, where you at?

[Verse 3: Gifted Gab]
I’m where I’m at nigga, fuck ‘em
I’m tryna cop a dub, I’m on 23rd and Judkins (Heh)
You know it’s something when niggas hit cuts and rollin up blunts and breakin out dutches
Makin mad ruckus, trust me I’m the illest
I’m a mother fucking monster, I’m subconsciously a killa’
I be bustin hella donuts, I be bumpin hella Dilla
I am talking to the grown-ups, don’t forget [?] gang ya bitch
Now where you at?

[Verse 4: J Byrd]
I’m in the trap house
Smacked out with fat loud, bats in the background
With a couple white bitches, keep ‘em passed out
One getting lined up the other getting capped out
[?]
Rollin like a carousel, higher than a ferris wheel
Laced guys share their pills
Likely with the Seroquel
In a slew of groupie ratchets fighting for a pair of heels
Where you at?

[Verse 5: Dave B]
Probably in the suburbs
Probably with some white girls, I got molly in the cupboard
I be Jazz, I be Blues
I be high, I be solo tho
I ain’t got the answers, don’t be rocking hella polo doe
My mind in the matrix, blind to the basic
Running out of everything but time and amazing
My aura be auspicious
I’m bombing your prom pictures
Crashing a Zumba class eating Ziti with bomb bitches
Nigga now where you at?

[Verse 6: B Skeez]
I’m in the valley
Somewhere in the hood, shooting dice up in the ally
I love my city but my kush come from cali
We move fast, we be Audi (Pew)
Get a P for twenty-two and sell it for three thousand
I need a whip with no roof that I can style in
Hustling out here, ducking out here
Man you fat dudes bluffing out here
Look in the mirror (Uh)
Now where you at?

[Verse 7: Ryan Campbell]
Suran wrap rapping
Banana Goo Pie and a hundred gram patties
The rubber bands fly, I’m a hundred gram stacking
Been a hella long time since I’ve had to gram bag it
Real bad habit, loud like static
She tests these keys, nose white like ceramic
The SPD tried to harass these rappers
We’re the ODB we some young dirty bastards
Now where you at?

[Outro: Sam Lachow]
Doing something dumb
Big homies keep fucking with me
I always feel hella young
These groupies keep doing bumps
Come morning we boo the sun
Can’t hang on molly grown fangs and chewing gum (Uh)
Guess a lot’s changed since the last record
I used to keep the ladies and (Shh) the rap separate
But now I fell in it
And I guess at this point I can’t tell the difference
Young Seattle