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KENDRICK LAMAR lyrics : "RONALD REAGAN ERA"

We're far from good
Not good from far
90 miles per hour down Compton Boulevard

With the top down, screaming we don't give a f-ck
Drink my 40 ounce of freedom while I roll my blunt
Cause the kids just aint alright


Oh %#@! ^!$$%s
Somethin' bout to happen

^!$$% this %#@!, ^!$$% this sound like 30 keys under the compton court building
Hope the dogs don't smell it


Welcome to vigilante
80′s so don't you ask me
I'm hungry my body's antsy

I'll rip through your f-cking pantry
Peeling off like a ? examine my orchestra
Granny said when I'm old enough

I'll be sure to be all I can be
You ^!$$%s Marcus Camby, washed up
#~!!@ fix ya panties

I'm Mr. Marcus, you gettin' f-cked, ugh
You aint heard nothing harder since Daddy Kane
Take it vain, vicodins couldn't ease the pain

Lightening bolts hit ya body, you thought it rained
Not a cloud in sight, just the %#@! that I write strong enough
To stand in front of a travelling freight train

Are you trained, to go against Dracula
Dragging the record industry by my fangs
AK clips, money clips and gold chains

You walk around with a P90 like it's the 90′s
Bullet to your temple your homocide'll remind me


Them Compton crip ^!$$%s aint nothing to f-ck with
Bompton Piru's aint nothing to f-ck with
Compton esé's aint nothin' to f-ck with

But they f-ck with me and (*##$ I love it

Whoopty whoop, woopty woop woop

Whoopty whoop, woopty woop woopty woop woop
(California dungeons)
Whoopty whoop, woopty woop woop

Whoopty whoop, woopty woop woopty woop woop
(California dungeons)


Lets hit the county building gotta catch my check
Spend it all to a 40 ounce to the neck
And in retrospect I remember December being the hottest

Squad cars, neighbourhood wars and stolen monsters
I tell you mothaf-ckers that life is full of hydraulics
Up and down, get 64 better know how to drive it

I'm driving on E with no license or registration
Heart racin' racing past johnny because he's racist
1987, the children of Ronald Reagan raped the leaves off your front porch

With a machine blow torch
He blowing on stress, hoping to ease the stress
He copping some blow hoping that it can stretch

New born massacre, hoppin' out the passenger
With calendars cause your date coming

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