Kendrick Lamar – H.O.C Lyrics

Kendrick Lamar – H.O.C Lyrics
H.O.C
Kendrick Lamar
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    H.O.C Album Art
    "H.O.C." - Kendrick Lamar

    Album: Overly Dedicated
    Track No: 10
    H.O.C, H.O.C
    All the real smokers get me H.O.C
    All the real smokers get me H.O.C
    H.O.C, H.O.C
    All the real smokers get me H.O.C
    H.O.C
    Everybody know I spit that other shit
    Shit that make you duck for cover shit
    Shit that make you hop out your seat and slap your mother shit
    Especially when Drop drop the beat
    I drop jewels like my nuts dropped out of my briefs
    Jump in the booth, then shatter every rapper's dream
    They jump in the sauna because I killed their self-esteem
    That's a jab, you should bob and weave
    Like Pam when Martin pulled jokes out his sleeve
    I go in studio sessions and feel like a nerd
    'Cause I'm the only **** there not smokin' no herb
    You tellin' me the kush make you think on level four?
    I'm on five, you sayin' that I can level more?
    In high school, my teachers thought I was smokin', stressed
    Didn't know my eyes low 'cause of genetic defects
    I stimulate my mind every time I think about the end of time
    Creation of man, and Columbine
    Bet you think that this some high shit that I wrote
    Probably think I'm off the kush or the hydro (Nope)
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    I really appreciate that you share your indo
    But a sip of Henny is the farthest I would go (Uh)
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    Look, nowadays everybody think they big chiefers
    Just 'cause they heard that new tape from Wiz Khalifa
    Knowin' damn well they can't hit the sour
    They're new booties, they probably need baby powder
    My skill shower over your city for forty days
    Forty nights, off the chain like freedom of slaves
    Before you get it twisted like forty gays
    My flow worth the Earth, that's not to be appraised
    Those the type of lines that I'm talkin' 'bout
    You know, the type of rhymes you don't talk about
    Copy my session on the disc when the session ends
    So my mama can have it and play it for her friends
    Brag on me like, "My son's 'bout to win
    Somehow, someday, and I don't care when"
    I might hit the gin once a month
    I'll let you inhale, like an atheist
    Bet you think that this some high shit that I wrote
    Probably think I'm off the kush or the hydro (Nope)
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    I really appreciate that you share your indo
    But a sip of Henny is the farthest I would go (Uh)
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    Uh, I'll take you back to the ninth grade
    When Dough Boy had me high for four days
    That's my ****, he a street ****
    Probably in your hood, fuckin' up your street, ****
    But anyway, I think it was some purple
    Told me, "Don't hit it hard because it'll hurt you"
    I didn't listen, I was floatin' like the Rose Parade
    Swear to God, a **** seen some flyin' fishes
    That was the Vegas trip, Hooters sponsored
    The same time, I start writin' like a fuckin' monster
    I'm Frankenstein every time this motherfucker ponders
    Just underline every letter, capital K-D-O-T
    Layin' it flat out like a tire with slow leaks
    Now what you 'bout? Nothin', huh?
    Am I a square 'cause I don't puff a square?
    Are my raps too blunt to hit the blunt? Yeah
    Bet you think that this some high shit that I wrote (Uh)
    Probably think I'm off the kush or the hydro (Nope)
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    I really appreciate that you share your indo
    But a sip of Henny is the farthest I would go (Uh)
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke
    H.O.C, H.O.C
    All the real smokers get me H.O.C
    All the real smokers get me H.O.C (Bitch, I'm blowed)
    H.O.C, H.O.C (Bitch, I'm blowed)
    All the real smokers get me H.O.C
    All the real smokers get me H.O.C
    Where are we goin'?
    Why are we slowin' down?
    Where are you goin'?
    We should be growin' now

    Writer(s): Kendrick Lamar.

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