Video G Y Jay Thang de Kendrick Lamar 2024 Lyrics | Hip Hop

Kendrick Lamar - G Y Jay Thang Lyrics

[Intro: Jay Rock]
G, just go in on these niggas

[Verse 1: Glasses Malone & Jay Rock]
Skip one through the six, this 7th Street
Jay Rock goin' hard for the letter B
Eastside, on the gang
If this rap don't sell, I'm back to robbin' thangs
Rob and bang at anything if we don't get along (We don't get along)
Homie, fuck your hood, you niggas hear the song (You hear it)
I know you fear Malone, your ho feel Malone (Haha)
All in them guts when at the crib alone
I just give her bone
I ain't gotta lie 'cause I'm a gutter guy
I don't save 'em, give 'em dick and guidelines
The Watts all-stars, you on the sideline
You benchwarmer, get you a set of pom-poms
Shout out to Tommy Tom, my nigga Two T's
Dippin' hoopties and coupes, now watch the roof leave
We in the zone, Rock, what this, a two-three?
Naw, this a triangle, bet we get a few rings
New bling, new whips, new cribs
New bitch, new SIG, new clips
That's how we do shit, brand-new shit
We don't do five, this a new six (Hah)
We on the block with sweepers, not broomsticks
Nothin' less than five'll get you dudes hit
[Chorus: Jay Rock]
It's like this and like that and like this and a—
It's like that and like this and like that and a—
It's like this and like that and like this and a—
G, creep to the mic like a phantom

[Verse 2: Glasses Malone]
Fuck creepin' to the mic, pull my TEC out
And creep up on a nigga Benz, tell him step out
See his wrist game sick? What his neck 'bout? (What it's 'bout?)
Nigga tryna have heart, but was chest out (Boom)
I got the best clout, I am rap's realest (Tell 'em)
If a red rag trip, have a Blood kill you (Tell 'em)
If a Crip get silly, can't pay a visit (Tell 'em)
This is more than rap music, every day, I live it (We live it)
You niggas walkin' gimmicks, tryna be me (Tryna be G)
I got zebra stripes, the rider be G
That's on CG, I rep the turf hard
Hard as surfboards, you soft as Nerf balls (Hah)

[Chorus: Glasses Malone]
It's like this and like that and like this and a—
It's like that and like this and like that and a—
It's like this and we ain't got no love for hoes
So just chill, this the next episode
[Verse 3: Jay Rock & Kendrick Lamar]
Fallin' back on that ass, gun in the stash, kush in the blunt
105 eastbound and I'm punchin' the gas
Catch me on the H with DT liftin' them weights
Four sets of ten, bench pressin' four plates
Bitches keep my dick in they mouth like Colgate
Strapped up 'cause they wishin' they blood would flow late
Jay Rock, G Malone, bitch niggas, they gon' hate
Catch 'em in the flesh, they give us that stale face, pussy
Out for more money, out for more power
More guns, less cowards
Watts City don, blowin' on bomb, K. Dot, where you from? (City of Compton)

[Verse 4: Kendrick Lamar]
That's where it takes place, catastrophic K. Dot
Quick to lay a motherfucker down (Pow-pow-pow)
Droppin' that funky shit make a nigga hold his nose with a bear trap
Your girl mooned me, then I fed her to the wolfpack
Straight mack, got a cold cap like a forty and thought
Nigga, a bitch only drink through a straw
Guzzle it down, no homo
You get killed for free promo
This Polaroid make a pro club logo (Yo)

[Verse 5: Glasses Malone]
I'm in that low-low, a brand-new Benz four-door
Picture me rollin', means take a photo (Uh)
You pinche joto (Suck), you niggas so-so
If Rock's Watts' finest, then I'm the fuckin' logo (Yeah)
Whole city know the B-I
Respect for Lil Wayne, Jay-Z, and T.I. (Damn)
Spendin' trap money since Nelly made "E.I."
And talkin' G shit 'til I'm cypherin' with BI
[Outro: Glasses Malone]
G thang
Ain't nothin' but a G thang, baby
G motherfuckin' Malone, Jay Rock, haha
Let's go
Ayy, yo, hold on, hold on, mute that, turn it off, let me talk to this nigga, man
Ayy, Glasses, man, you gotta do that verse again, man, that shit ain't bangin' like the first one
You gotta go in
Goddamn, Street, yo
I'm lookin' at this MySpace, man
Who is these bitches, big dog?
I'm lookin' at this one message, and the one ho done hit you about fifteen times
And I done sent her about fifteen messages too, tellin' her
Good dick come to hoes who wait