Dollaz And Sense / 0 To 100

(album: 354: Lift Off - 2014)

[Dollaz and Sense:]

[Verse 1 Problem:]
Nigga, I'm from Compton, what up Quik? You my nigga, bro
Doing 80 in Figueora, condition is critical, I can't get caught slipping
By my foes or the po's, boy I've been sipping
Shoutout to my nigga Villain nana cripping even on cell day
Big Nick, Ludolph, Bird Nose, and LJ
Dice games on a 102nd and Main
I lose I hit [?], come back, then try to crack 'em again
Way before I hit the trafficking game
Nowadays I'm just trafficking game, you better get some
Get out the way 'fore I hit something, erhhh, pop
I love driving bitch niggas crazy
Eat a bowl of shit 'fore a bitch nigga play me
Balling, bitch try to play me
Kobe, KDs are laced up, in the club Aced up
Tatted from the waist up, fuck like a straight slut
Nah-ah-ah-ah-ah, that's for real
And ho I don't need a pill
Independent getting skrilla, I don't need a deal
Bank'll kill at will, two sec, need Benadryl
And a nigga been this ill for a long time
You pussies want a problem, get in that long line
Yeah, that long line, yeah, yeah, a long line
Run it wrong, you'll be done in six seconds, no Vine
Tell your ho to come over, she'll be there in no time
Like she watchless, it's Showtime, ho watch this
If I call you for me to come over I'm coming to stick
Chopsticks, pull it out she lock lips
Yeah, let me hit it bare then I might get her some head
Lick her for some paper, I'm a do it like a dare
Diamond Lane the Gang, and I bang it like a snare
On God, bow down to no man
I'm a bar, no Rosanne, El Segando to Rosecrans
Repping, Westside stepping
Eastside mind state with three K's, Andre
I'm an outcast, honey mmm in the house stash
We'll just take you out for the right cash
And I ain't talking 'bout no date
Birthday love cakes as much as Boog loves Satan
You got served, in every way possible
Shit get hostile, I get colder than a hospital
So don't be banging under false pretense
'Cause if it don't make dollars, it don't make sense, boy!

[Hook DJ Quik, (Problem) & (Childish Gambino):]
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense (Yeah)
So don't kill game, let the pimping commence (What?)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense
So don't kill game, let the pimping commence ('Cause I ain't playing with your punk ass, boy)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense (Diamond Lane, Money Gang, everything we run it)
So don't kill game, let the pimping commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense (What up, Problem?)
Because you gotta give it up to the crown prince (What?)

[Verse 2 Childish Gambino:]
Now look who came up in this bitch
Mister look like shit, but I know he rich
Get at me, I thought you mothafuckas be happy
But they not 'cause they took a back seat like a taxi
I'm a latch key kid, home alone so often
But I had to come back to my Cali like Culkin
I was born out here, then I moved out there
Nigga check my core, man, this shit ain't fair
I got a track with Alley Boy, Fredo, and Problem
So you know I'm in the hood just like I'm a cobra
Python, check the app, I'm hanging with coders
Man that 'Bino going off, I thought that I told you
Before the [?] closed and the Crenshaw Mall
I used to date this fly girl with a place in the Dons
We used to cruise Leimert Park in a Beamer
Love a Cali girl so much, have you seen her?
Shout out to Latinas, look at all these hynas
'Bino is the highest, niggas know I'm childish
I be on that Y shit, and she down to roll
Ate her pussy like a sachi teriyaki bowl
Ayo, Problem? (What up?) This a diss track right? (Go ahead)
Fuck you, fuck you you're cool you can't rap
You need help, you all industry hype
Most of these niggas aight, none of 'em holding a light to me
Wearing some wifer tees, like it was '93
After the riots, niggas is violent
Sprayed the llama, took the L shit, wasn't silent, though
Middle finger crossed up, niggas now you know, for real

[Hook DJ Quik & (Problem):]
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense (Gambino)
So don't kill game, let the pimping commence (Yeah)
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense ([?] night with real men, for real)
So don't kill game, let the pimping commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense ('Cause if it don't make dollars it don't make sense)
So don't kill game, let the pimping commence
If it don't make dollars, it don't make sense (Compton, California, that's where I'm from)
Because you gotta give it up to the crown prince (Diamond!)

[Interlude Bad Lucc:]
Ayo, Justin Credible, what the deal?
You know it wouldn't have been the same without Bad Lucc up in this thing [?] like that
You know what I'm talking 'bout?
Diamond Lane up in this thing
If Diamond Lane's in this thing, you know LA's up in this thing
And if LA's up in this thing then you know the LA Leakers up in this thing
We about to turn up real quick, ayo, Prob!
Show 'em what that jump off mix do, the Diamond Lane way
You dig me? Yeah


[0 to 100:]

[Verse Problem:]
Come through high, stepping like a kappa nigga
Run the race, [?] Obama 'bout to lap a nigga
I don't talk, kill beef before it happen, nigga
Think we second place by the way we coming after niggas
Up, down, closed fists like we 'bout to dap a nigga
Bro, don't shake my hand, don't try to dap a nigga
Me and Luccy lavish, nigga
It's funny how the vets wait till you get the mail before they stop a nigga
Huh, kind of crazy, right? (Yeah)
Blowing cool J's, yeah, I'm with the ladies like (Yeah)
A nigga matching head to toe, I'm the 80's type
I hid my safe, it seen more scratches than when ladies fight
Betty Wright, just (Nigga just), oh my God, I'm fucking focused
Rid the ground of Batman and start dealing with these jokers
Got bitches (Got bitches), got a thousand on the sofas
But they better watch they steps, spent 2, 000 on these loafers
I ain't playing (I ain't playin'), I done been took the jersey off
Me and [?] ducking TMZ, scurry off
D Kev, Retro 11's
Cashed out on "Like What, " got it patented, no leather
Outside my boy, Lucc, ain't another nigga better
And I'm gunning at a blue, sharper 9, sharper [?]
Diamond Lane, came from nothing, Hell yeah, I'm living proof
Hundred twenty-five inches worth of TV in my room
Picture clear (Picture clear), birdy told me let y'all have it
Now I'm busting, pretty lady, get that towel from out the cabinet
Wipe me down (Wipe me down), wipe me down, wipe me down
God done gave me the will, who the fuck can stop me now?
Run 'em over (Run 'em over), grab a spatula, leave him flat
I don't give a fuck, niggas shouldn't have stepped on the track
Anyway, delay, one lane, no delaying
Court side with a basketball nigga's boot thing
True story (That's real, nigga)

[Outro Problem & Justin Credible:]
Yeah
Diamond Lane, Problem, Bad Lucc, cash in
We coming
OK, you see what it is, man
LA Leakers, Justin Credible, Fuzz Fantab, DJ Sourmilk, man
Along with the homie, Problem
Whoa, it's about to be a 3, 5, 4, lift off
Let's turn it up, man
LA, let's show 'em how we do, baby, LA Leakers