[Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q]
I think my pressure boiling from all the shit that's spoiling
Uh, I once was on it but now my head's enormous
Uh, your shit was boring, my art is fast and forming
Creativity is what you lack in your performance
You see the crowd n***a? Microphone checker
Mr. Home Wrecker, give me hard liquor
Let the blunt flicker, you see my style evolve
Reservoir Dogs and we some Hannibals
If I would catalog, feeling phenomenon
I'm after the Parmesan, while gripping my fire arm
Bang, he lost an arm, bang, he writing nothing
N***a you wasting time, I'm wasted, past the line, I'm hard
My nig, you whine, you broke, my nig, you lying, you owe
You buying dimes, look my nig, we know the signs
But quick to speak our minds, fronting like you balling man
I couldn't tell, Hell, smoking more than what your dealer sell
Huh, super fail, super duper fail
Listen to the Schoolboy, my mic can teach you well, Hell
Hah, left him at a pit stop
Top Dawg, mothafuck your hip hop

[Chorus]
Mothafuck your hip hop
Mothafuck your hip hop
You ain't gotta cop it when my shit drop?
Mothafuck your hip hop
[Verse 2: Rapper Big Pooh]
They don't wanna see you shine, they don't wanna see you grow
They don't wanna see you sign on that line and get doe
Wanna keep you in they pocket, I fire like a rocket
I'm tryna blow up, like sticking forks in the socket
I did it for the love, I do it for the art
Now how am I supposed to write these 16's in the dark?
My car's on park, I can't eat skills
And props ain't gon' pay all these mothafuckin' bills
I can keep it real and get paid at the same time
Money in my pocket won't reflect on my next line
Next rhyme, next date, showing off my chest plate
Belly big, looking all full, cause I just ate
Know some shit been going wrong if I lost weight
Ain't about the doe, but I need it now, won't wait
Can't stop, won't stop, not even a drip drop
Say what you want but mothafuck your hip hop

[Chorus]
Mothafuck your hip hop
Mothafuck your hip hop
You ain't gotta cop it when my shit drop?
Mothafuck your hip hop

[Verse 3: Murs]
They say, "Murs why you put Dogg Pound on Paid Dues and shit?
Must have gone mainstream, sold out losing it"
N***as that's been underground for years and ain't doing shit
My homies ain't no B-boys fool, all they do is Crip
Keep on talking shit and they gon' sock you in the lip
And you gon' do is get mad and try to sue a pimp
Then I'm spending loot on a lawyer that's ludicrous
Cashing out my street cred for you? Man, I'm through with this
I'm a changed man, that's the only reason you exist
If this was '96 we would have caught you in a twist
The little homies busting at you out the Bronco
Peel your cap ten kick back at the compost
Large orange bang and a bomb plate of nachos
Bitter broke n***a, quit hating, keep your mouth closed
Rapping 30 years, you still ain't this hot
Shut your ass up n***a, mothafuck your hip hop
[Chorus]
Mothafuck your hip hop
Mothafuck your hip hop
You ain't gotta cop it when my shit drop?
Mothafuck your hip hop