ScHoolboy Q Feat. Black Hippy – That Part (Remix) Lyrics

The lyrics for ScHoolboy Q and Black Hippy “That Part (Remix).” Kanye West is left off the remix but featured on the original.

(Chorus – ScHoolboy Q)
Me no conversate with the fake, that part
All my bi**hes independent bi**hes, that part
I just want the paper, that part
All my bi**hes flavored
That part, that part, that part, that part

(Verse 1 – Jay Rock)
It’s impossible to love it, if you don’t come from it
It’s things that goes on, you just can’t stomach
I seen it all happen, but I ain’t saying nada
Peep, 24/7 in the hood it’s hot
If you wanna fall through, get Top on the phone
He don’t pick up then it ain’t bool
Let you know it ain’t good to stop
That part, that part, that part
I’m a Watts ni**a and we not kosher
S**t, ni**as only concern is the bottom line like a stockholder
This is where they come, where they cop them boulders
Hoes catfight with their tits exposed
Still sipping on that Wild Irish Rose
Still rock swap meet designer clothes
Black MAC 11 in my mattress
Make a hundred racks do a backflip
Might go Uncle Luke on them hoes
Pu*** pop for a bankroll, yeah
All my killers with me got a blank face, yeah
On that f**k you, bi**h, where the pay pay?
Make em pull up on your block with them 223s
Aim it at your face, hey
Moving with the rock and the Glock concealers
You either selling rock or you flock to get it
You either on the watch or the clock is ticking
The life of my Watts and my Bompton ni**as
Get pinched, I’ma post a bond
Know POP gon hold it down, look
Need cash, gotta get you some
If a hater tell you money ain’t everything
He don’t want you to get none
So we thugging like DMX
Bleed s**t, PMS
Point blank, period, meet me on the ES
I’m fully with the BS, believe that!

(Verse 2 – Kendrick Lamar)
And we don’t stress
A .38 til it free your chest
Then PP on the PO’s desk
I’m Jay Z in a blow out press
Relate me to your blowout’s best
Can’t heat me, I’m remote you’re deaf
I’m HD causing photo theft
My AC antifreeze got a…that part
Hold your breath, I’m 8 feet when I hold this TEC
Protect me from the local threats
My ID say my eye don’t rest
My IV qualify T-rex
And society kept my IQ vexed
Deny me from an Ivy school
Applying me to the street I slept
I quietly had to hold this tool
Reminding me of the block I repped
The turf I stepped, the church and the earth I blessed
The first I guessed the alert was the murk I chef
That hearse the flirt with perks of a kill confessed
Dispersed the worst, the first 48 addressed
The search and laws and verse of the birth I nest
The awe, the curse of a pose in zest
The good, the flaws, the pain to reverse what’s left

(Repeat Chorus)

(Verse 3 – Ab-Soul)
Zest god, zest god, zest god, zest god
Yamborghini high, cream soda with the Wockhardt
Soulo Hoe the profit, yeah Soulo Hoe the prophet
That’s the fortune teller making withdraws and deposits
Ironic, they wanna know where I’ve been in
Where the f**k I’ve been hiding in
When the f**k am I dropping that
New work that take em to church and
Turn the universe upside down again
Since you’re so smart
I can’t get in my groove til we get the Q first
I will not heed
I pull up large enough to part the Red Sea
Father forgive em for they know not who they see
I got all eyes on me, call me 3Pac

(Interlude – ScHoolboy Q)
Hang on, ni**a, let me get some
Hang on, ni**a
Hang on

(Verse 4 – ScHoolboy Q)
Made a mil and I spent it in the same day
Got a chopper, not the AK
Getting money on a vacay
Go go gadget’s in the driveway
Doing Tony on July 8th
Yeah I’m killing kitties on a Sunday
How you balling in a Hyundai?
My Ferrari got a toupee
Swerve in the big body
Your favorite artist, I’m his big homie
Yeah I’m walking with a 5th
I’m not voting, I’m a Crip, homie
I’m where them Bloods, where them Locs at
Where the blood, where the choke round gloves for the combat
How the feds in your contacts?
How the feds know my set name?
Fled in the Mulsanne
Hydrate up the rap game
Heard Soulo coming up next
And SZA got a classic, ni**a
Heard Zay’s got it mastered, uh
The fire burning through the plastic
So fingers to the badges
They don’t love you til the racks evolve
When I was broke they wouldn’t accept the call
Now they on me for my decimals
Blank Face has gotta X ’em off
Enemies gotta bob and weave
Gangbanging like we stand for something
When Alton Sterling getting killed for nothing
Two cowards in the car, they’re just there to film
Saying #BlackLivesMatter should’ve died with him
Wrong ni**a in your hood, you gong ride on him
White ni**a with a badge, you gong let that slide?
Tell me how they sent that footage off and slept that night
I feel bad that my daughter gotta live this life
I’ll die for my daughter, gotta fight this fight
Put a Blank Face on, ni**a let that drop
That, that part