In the gritty narrative of urban survival and underground economies, this track portrays the life of a drug dealer with unflinching realism. The lyrics, delivered by ScHoolboy Q and E-40, dive into the complexities and dangers associated with the drug trade, highlighting both the allure of quick wealth and the perpetual risk of violence and legal repercussions. Through vivid imagery and stark anecdotes, the song explores themes of power, paranoia, and consequence in the context of street-level narcotics commerce. #DopeDealer #UrbanRealism
Dope Dealer
Lyrics
I got a sack of blue faces but my AR black
I got two bitches in my whip and they got hold my strap
I put the knife to the coca leaf and turn that crack
I put the nine to your coconut and pull that back
I see that motherfucker shinin' snatch your whole damn throat
I got a strike in every pocket of my old ass coat
I use to fly around your city nigga no ID
I get a half and I'ma flip it gotta go OT
I think somebody getting bodied on the weekday, get out the way
I'm in my new clothes, now drop it for me for a bankroll
I'm lookin' like a motherfuckin' dope dealer nigga
Where the hoes where the blow I'm just a dope dealer nigga
Paper in the paper bag I'm a dope dealer nigga
Let my bitch to beat his ass I'm a dope dealer nigga
Fuck your homies and the police I'ma dope dealer nigga
Couple diamonds in my Rollie I'm a dope dealer nigga
Got the plug on the dodie I'm a dope dealer nigga
Better buck, your auntie know me I'm a dope dealer nigga
Cali niggas is manish and we havin' it (greedy)
We got FN 57s and we savages (beasty)
My little niggas be impin', they some P's (hustlers)
Some of them sell candy, some sell trees (customers)
Me personally I'm a rapper, and I'm spectacular (remarkable)
Got a way with my words, my lingo and vernacular (marketable)
I'll beat a bitch down, I promise you I ain't playin' (beat his ass)
Stomp his ass out throw him up in the garbage can (the trash)
In the heart of the trap you might find me slappin' bones (dominos)
In the thick of the soil, in the middle of a war zone (eatin' Dominos)
Where the gumbo pots boil and the taskforce raid our homes (vamonos)
Heavy surveillance, helicopters and drones (Bitch)
I think somebody getting bodied on the weekday
Get out the way
I'm in my new clothes, now drop it for me for a bankroll
I'm lookin' like a motherfuckin' dope dealer nigga
Where the hoes where the blow I'm just a dope dealer nigga
Paper in the paper bag I'm a dope dealer nigga
Let my bitch to beat his ass I'm a dope dealer nigga
Fuck your homies and the police I'ma dope dealer nigga
Couple diamonds in my Rollie I'm a dope dealer nigga
Got the plug on the dodie I'm a dope dealer nigga
Better buck, your auntie know me I'm a dope dealer nigga
I got them egg whites and them oxtails for the low
Got them hot wheels gotta push start and it go
Got them 16's of the Act right and its sealt'
We on the frontline when its crunch time to get chilled
You us lil' niggas love gold chains and them whips
Make me rearrange your whole thang for my hip
I get this motherfucker jumpin' bitch you know why I came
They told me Thou Shalt not kill when I jumped in the flame
I'm cocoo for the cocoa leaves and I turned it to dope
The money never grew on trees but I'm watching it grow
We talkin' code, Latin hoes told 'em ven aca
I get to swinging' on this chopper nigga, R.I.P
White stones, panties gone, boom
2 phones, man he on, boom
Bank roll, hella hoes, boom
Big dope, blow your nose, boom
White stones, panties gone, boom
2 phones, man he on, boom
Bank roll, hella hoes, boom
Big dope, blow your nose, boom
Writer(s): Leland Tyler Wayne, Norman Jesse Whitfield, Quincy Matthew Hanley, Earl Tywone Jr. Stevens, Joshua Howard Luellen, Paul D. Beauregard, Jordan Michael Houston, Patrick Earl Houston
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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