Letra de 'Dead Rappers' de ScHoolboy Q

Hey , yo
Guess who's bizack still hit a crack him off loads
Cocaine spit throat be the stove
Stay running on these tracks and the mic be the soles
Be cautious real spitters so you might get exposed
Copycats spitting all these facts
Without your life attached not understanding where your life is at
You got your boy confused though I'm not convinced
Would tell you washed up, but your flow is drenched
Let me clear my throat let me spit these quotes

And tell you Q, Jay Rock, Dot, we run the coast
I'm so addicted, and so is Lifted
So restricted, now your flow evicted
Fake niggas see through you like eyelashes
Eyeglasses like Kobe nigga, no passes
My breed, knowing that you can't make 'em
You can't break 'em, so peace As-salamu alaykum

Goodbye, I know the rapper dead
I'm on my murder job again in the morning
This 187 on the line I know the rapper dead
That means another record label is mourning
So you can run but you cannot hide
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Mortician got a feeling with embalming fluid
Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
Lyrical homicide best believe I do

Yo Q, these niggas think they cute
Talking louder than the trumpet, when I see 'em where the fluke?
Your opinion something moving like pew
pass by 'em, hog tie 'em For the revenue
bullets peer through the bulletproof
Look what the iron do scope now I'm eyeing you
Silencer, now my iron grew I en route
Learn, of the flow first to realize these rap guys

Shit on 'em then throw them to the flies bombs like Al-Ca-ter
Ride on my enemies, homicide
Text like a referee, give you free shot for any penalty
Drop metaphors, nouns and verbs plenty similes
Serve like a waitress and you don't want seconds courtesy
Off K Dot, the son of 2Pac
Biggies nephew Big L said I was special,
Now let's do, lunch over these beats
Even Punch said I was sweet
Punchlines and kick hot rhymes 'till I'm burning my feet
Ouch

Wait I got it uh known for spitting knowledge uh
Homages like tuition, they pay it like it's college uh
Wait professor uh, well how I spit it this semester
Look I'm sending MC's on a stretcher
These bitches uh, all because my lyrical conversation
Got these bitches begging for penetration
Humiliation, Rappers they will know I demolish ya
Spit you to a coma Dot finish 'em

Uh, wait, Diminish ya preach like a minister
Competition naw they pussy get the [?]
Get in the ass like animals imitators get plenty of
Propane, hotter when winter come, some insane
Dope mane, bee's the studio, You ain't lived here
Ever since I done came, record me yoooo
Your own momma wouldn't do that
She rather throw herself in the dumpster than listen to trash