Lyrics Of The Week: June 7-13

1.) Most Popular: Wale ft. 2 Chainz & Wiz Khalifa - Rotation

The words to Wale's "Rotation" were the most popular of the week, due in part to big features from Tity Boi and Wiz. As is most often the case in the "Most Popular" category, there's nothing particularly remarkable about these lyrics. Each emcee delivers what we've come to expect from them at this point. 

The Gifted is slated to drop on June 25th. Who's looking forward to this project? 

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
A nigga like me don't smoke blunts so I keep those joints in rotation
Bad bitches calling the radio, keep my joints in rotation
Keep throwing money on her ass, keep that joint in rotation
First I'm in a car and then another car, I keep them joints in rotation
And I'm hella faded
Getting elevated
She give me them good brains
I'm getting well educated
Soon as them hoes see my car, they wanna jump right in
If you see my crib, you would think I was Malibu Ken
Pour a shot or two of gin, go on and invite a few friends
We done tried a few things, now you tryna move in
You ain't gotta... so I got a few fans
I'm a roll a few grams
And follow through with the plan, hold up
Pour some gin in her cup
She takin' shots
Bent her down to the front
She takin' shots

[Hook: Wale]
Tryna stay in my zone
Watchin' enemies close
They be doin' the most
So I go through the motions
Five blunts in rotation - five blunts
Five blunts in rotation - five blunts
Five blunts in rotation - five blunts
Five blunts in rotation - five blunts

[Verse 3: Wale]
One more to get my lungs warm
Two more to get me numb to it
Let me tell you niggas
Who fail to tell or realize
I gotta deodorize all the unsure
Made millions with Shawn Cory
Chief a lot, shout out Reese and 'em
Shout out Gleese and Lil Meech
And peach Ciroc, can't see a nigga writin' like an old Sharpie
Like a nigga out the globe, with a nigga throwed
Like a cornerback in the flat, nigga in the zone
Like an ornament on a tree, home in the tree
How you gonna eat? Carnivores need beef
Well I need beats
Been doing this
Been proving it
Now these niggas give it up like they do at Lent
I just be like "Yep" then I get a rest
Haters trying to fuck with me, give 'em nuts like a stewardess

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The latest single from Schoolboy's upcoming Oxymoron album, featuring fellow Black Hippy and TDE labelmate Kendrick Lamar. Both emcees spit rapid but engaging verses, with Q bringing the hedonism and K. Dot the straight edge intensity. They do a lot of justice to the uplifting instrumental provided by THC and Gwen Bunn. 

Thoughts on this one? 

[Verse 1: ScHoolboy Q]
Smoke this, drink this
Straight to my liver
Watch this, no tick
Yeah, I’m the nigga
Gang rap, X-mas
More shots out the liver
Faded, Vegas
Might sponsor the killer
Shake it, break it
Hot-hot for the winter
Drop it, cop it
Eyes locked on your inner object
Rock it, blast-blast, new beginnings
Lovely, pinky, how not, I remember
Fiending...
Gimme, gimme, gimme some
Freak the freckles off your face
Frenchy freaking, swapping tongue
Click my link and spread your buns
Loose your denim, make it numb
Blow it baby, no Saddam
Icky, icky, icky...
Fuckin' in the car service
Thank me for the car pool
Chromosome, part full
Probably off a Norco
And gas, not the Arco
Popping since the intro
You shoppin' from the window
Play my favorite tempo

[Hook]
Oh... luxury
Chidi-ching-ching could buy anything, cop that
Oh... collard greens
Three degrees low, make it hot for me, drop that
Oh... down with that shit
King shit, smoke this, get down with the shit
Oh... down with the shit
King shit, smoke this, down with the shit...

[Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar]
Hold up, biatch!
This your favorite song
Translation: Ven aqui
Mami, asi culo
Tu quiero coger mi huevos
Y papi molestes pero
Chuparse puto pendejo
El pinche cabron; let's get it
Nights like this I'm a knight like this
Sword in my hand, I fight like this
And I'm more than a man, I'm a God
Bitch, touche, en garde
Toupée drop and her two tits pop
Out of that tank top and bra
And when I say "Doo! Doo! Doo! Doo!"
Bitch, that be K. Dot
She want some more of this
I'll give her more of this, I owe her this
In fact, I know she miss
The way I floored this, I'm focused
I know my Houston partners
Drop a four on this, and focus
And slow it down
Alright, let me blow this bitch
I'm famous, I blame this on you
Cash in the...
Hang at my penthouse roof
Skyline the clearest
Watch it, your optics
Popping out, you look the weirdest
Pop my top on the 105
Head with no power steering

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A smoked-out track from Problem's The Separation mixtape with big features from Uncle Snoop & Tip. It's a smoker's anthem, plain and simple. 

Can you dig it? 

[Verse 1: Problem]
Compton, California
It's well known, I get it crackin', though
I already run my town, it's time to take it national
Real is all I ever speak, every quote is factual 
Lick between my girly's legs
She's 'bout to cum, she grabs my 'fro 
Serving balls like McEnroe - cheese, I need no macaro'
Play me like a Fruity Pop, goons'll pop that cantaloupe 
When OT I go OD - it's two things that I'm gon' need:
A pack of bougie ghetto bitches and a pound of fire weed
That'll have me adios, gang of boos, Apollo show 
Fuck 'em like I love 'em then I dip back to the barrio 
Money spinning like a wheel, it's cool 'cause every day I earn
No one's higher, forest fire, check all the tree I burn
Chachi Mr. Maserati, J full of that kamikaze 
Pop your hottie off a molly while she's cheesin' for paparazzi 
Never sloppy, always cool - you the type that always lose
Always makin' money songs when yours as short as interludes
Ask your hoe, I've been the dude - been the truth, never fake
Never hate - used to have to bend the rules to get my cake
Now I don't, now I'm straight - but my bitches ain't, though
Every day's a celebration - Diamond Lane, it's separation 

[Hook: Problem]
I'm just ridin' 'round with my niggas smokin' weed
Pull up on my bitches, yeah, I'm smokin' weed
Handle most my business while I'm smokin' weed
Only the realest of the realest get to smoke with me
So roll up... (roll up, roll up...)
Go 'head, bro, roll up... (roll up)
Bitch, you wanna smoke, you'd better roll up
(Roll up, roll up...)
Go 'head and roll up... (roll up)
Or get the fuck from 'round me, pussy!

Click the badge to read Snoop and Tip's verses: 

"You never know with this shit, I don't understand / Kids carry canons on Instagram but cryin' when the cuffs on they hands." -Ab-Soul

A Larry Fisherman-produced single from Vince Staples, featuring Ab-Soul. Both emcees keep it extremely real on the track, Soulo especially. 

How's the chemistry here? 

[Verse 1: Ab-Soul]
Black-lipped bastard - destined to be a bastard Crip
But I passed on it to make classic hits 
I pray I'm forgiven for not being down
Or puttin' the work in that certain niggas did
Reason behind their service in the pen
Partially why I don't write, I just pull it out the wind
Sometimes I can't sleep at night
I be thinkin' 'bout my friends, know they up to no good
It's all bad...
I seen the yellow tape at Dale's and almost had a heart attack 
You never know with this shit, I don't understand
Kids carry canons on Instagram
But cryin' when the cuffs're on their hands
It's out my hands...
It's two sides to every story
And I ain't a judge or signed up for jury duty 
My youth was stolen moving too quick, it's sick though 
'Cause Vince know what I know now, when I'm 26
We still movin' further, hope my seeds grow to be trees
And not just bushes... 

[Hook]
Can I live without killin' y'all? Please... 
Can I live without killin' y'all? Please... 
Can I live without killin' y'all?
Can I live without killin' y'all?
Can I live without...

[Verse 2: Vince]
Call the gang unit - they know the game, foolie
I truly was built for this shit, I'm in the rain coolin'
Right by where the enemies live... 
You know you can kill a giant with a lucky shot...
Aim for the head when you fuck with God Jehova 
I'll hopefully be speakin' the code of the beat
Snitch and we domin' your niece 
Homies be cold as police 
Mama had told us as kids never to shit where you eat
And I got a clip for the heat - .357, I think I'm itchy, dawg 
Niggas know I'm 6'5 'til I'm 6 feet 
Under, where they took us?
Undercovers parked on Orizaba
Dogs up in the yard of the abandoned where we hide the choppers
I couldn't hide from the karma, you see it followed me
Fuck it - get it crackin' in public, these niggas rap for the fashion
They want the mansions, they puppets 
A puppet master'll bust in that chamber talkin' 'bout Muzzle...

[Hook]

"Kush got me movin' slow-mo / Steak and eggs in my dojo." -Wiz Khalifa 

A choice cut from Action Bronson and Harry Fraud's Saaab Stories EP, which dropped this week. If it wasn't already clear, Action's all about imagery, and this track is no exception, whether it be Wiz eating steak and eggs in his dojo or Action rocking white leather in the tropics. It's also an homage to American professional wrestler Marty Jannetty, most known for his stint in the WWF as half of The Rockers tag team with Shawn Michaels. Action and Wiz handle the track as Jannetty and Michaels handled their opponents in the ring.

Thoughts? 

[Hook: Action Bronson]
White leather to the knee, we in the tropics
Left-handed, switching speeds, I'm in the cockpit
Straight from Flushing, man, we're known for using chop sticks
Problems getting dealt with, never pop shit
Hit you with the drop-kick, Marty Jannetty
Know I'll hit you with the drop-kick, Marty Jannetty
Know I'll hit you with the drop-kick, Marty Jannetty
Know I'll hit you with that drop-kick, Marty Jannetty

[Verse 1: Action Bronson]
Rock the shore cap, kamikaze 
Burning cheese, saganaki 
Greek shit, whole team sick 
Hoe bitches from Cleveland on my dick because I rap 
Fuck it, make it clap 
Throw the money in the air then pick it up, I'll take that back, bitch
Homie, hold me down - homie throw me phoney pounds 
The scent of dollars like some crispy garlic, golden brown
Addicted, but ain't nothin' prescripted 
Baby clams from Montauk, mix it with the linguistics
Bitch, I'm high... 

Click the badge to read Wiz' verse:

J. Cole recruited 50 and Bas for this unprecedented tribute to New York City from the deluxe edition of Born Sinner. Cole and Fif' on the same track doesn't seem like a likely collaboration, but it works. The North Carolina emcee paints vivid images of the city with Bas on the assist and  50 holding down the hook.  

How's the chemistry here? Does it ring true? 

[Verse 1: J, Cole]
New York times
Come listen to these New York rhymes
A southern nigga with a New York mind
In the concrete jungle of Queens tryna to be kings
Getting to the money it seems by any means
As I watch it all pan out, try not to stand out
Fish out of water yet an official reporter
Up here life is a bitch, I'll blow a kiss at her daughter
In a city with nigga will leave your shit out of order
So yeah, you heard the news, disturbing news
Shot... brother in the head, thank the lord he ain't dead
Was in a coma for months, eyes ain't opened up once
My nigga visibly stressed, in a mess he's smoking his blunt
What could I say, I can't relate to that...
All I do is pray for that
This the city God told me "go and make it at"
I've got a date with destiny, I'm running late for that
Grab a paper - "hey kid, you gotta pay for that!"

[Hook: 50 Cent & J Cole]
The New York Times
The New York Times
(Extra, extra, read all about it)
They say you can win anywhere
If you can win here
And you ain't been no where if you ain't been here
We all so hard, yeah, it really ain't a game, man
Same places, different faces on the train, man
New York, New York...

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"Renovate these niggas' houses over quarters and ounces."

This early leak from Freddie Gibbs' upcoming ESGN album finds him doing what he does best: spitting that gangster shit. Channelling 'Pac, he chronicles the pros and cons of both the dope and rap games, mercilessly taunting his adversaries on both fronts. 

Thoughts on this one? 

[Hook]
Nigga, test me, I'll send my some bullets with my reply
I'm straight for life, all I gotta do is stay black or die 
I'm straight for life, all I gotta do is stay black or die 
I'm straight for life, all I gotta do is stay black or die 
A nigga diss me, I'll send my some bullets with my reply
I'm straight for life, all I gotta do is stay black or die 
I'm straight for life, all I gotta do is stay black or die 
I'm straight for life, all I gotta do is stay black or die 

[Verse 2]
Droppin' this pill and lifting a cup of dope
Man, just take a breather - rappers is having seizures and strokes 
Yeah, that type of shit make niggas sit back and stick to the smoke
Nigga dead before his thirties on overdose, ain't no joke
I ain't one for stacking, on my habits
I brush my teeth with Hennessy, sleep with my automatic 
My nigga hit my line, he 'bout to touch down with that package
I know the whole house is funky when they rip the package 
Everlasting, headed for Hell or the jail cell
Won't be a monkey for them crackers like I'm LL
So fuck a Cool J cookie, it's shrimp and lobster tail
I've got these dykes that'll throw a bike out in Lauderdale 
All is well when I bail
Workin' that scale through the day and the night 
This V & L that I throw up don't stand for "Vampire Life"
Sorry Mr. Jones, twistin' your fingers can get you doomed
Shout out to the Lords, shout out to the folks, word to the Stones
Just don't fuck with a nigga's dossier file
A real OG, I ain't start bangin' at 25
Exotic taste, got exotic bitches and exotic rides
You just a neutron nigga, you work a 9-5 - a 9-5
Got my college girl to take a trip
Now she think she a gangster bitch
She said I'm the coldest nigga to spit this gangsta shit since Jadakiss
Niggas can't go like Freddie Soprano, that's on the mob, G
Jeezy wrote me off, he traded trappin' for office jobs
But it's cool, nigga, got my own plate
You can't feed me wit your spoon, nigga
Get your paper, I'll let your partners play the fool, nigga
The real realest nigga in it
Way back I kept that strap wil Lil' Rob in his Infinite
Told me if I tried this rap, I'd be a legend 'fore I finish
Gangster G, now what's the motherfuckin' business?
Nigga, he told me if I tried this rap, I'd be a legend 'fore I finish
Gangster G, now what's the motherfuckin' business?
Nigga, we hit 'em up...

Click the badge to read Gibbs' first verse:

"You can call me an SOB 'cause it's skateboards over Bugattis." -Lil Wayne 

Weezy F and Boo reinterpreted Ace Hood's monster "Bugatti" single for DJ Stevie J's upcoming mixtape The Appreciation 6. We'll leave the commentary on this one up to all of you. Is the remix an improvement? 

Stay tuned for next Friday’s Lyrics of the Week, folks. Apologies for the delay, and thanks for joining the discussion. 

[Intro: Lil Wayne]
Don't be looking for no donations 
You get dick, then reservations 
I get pussy, then hibernation
I start humping soon as I wake up
I woke up in some new punani (yeah) 
He woke up bleeding like "who shot me?" (yeah)
I kept shooting, Boo said "you got him"
Now all we gotta go is get rid of the body
But anyway, I woke up in some new punani

[Verse 1]
I was drunk as a bitch
Drunk as a bitch but not drunk as the bitch 
I got in and shagged, a donkey in it 
Junk in our trunk, hope my trunk he can fit 
And she jumped on my dick like a monkey and shit
Bunk and Sea Monkey do banana clips
Shoot at them niggas, no camera glitch 
Wax that ass, no candles lit
And I roll with some killers, I eat with a mob
Got some shit built up, I keep it inside
Red in my eyes, Mount Everest high
Look dead in my eyes, see death in my eyes
The TEK on my thigh, my aim so good
I could shoot a fly or a bull in the eye
Hold up - all bullshit aside
A nigga almost died, but I'm outchea
Fuck around with a real nigga and get merked 
I've been payin' my dues, will I get reimbursed?
Love it when she make faces
Pussy feel like vacation
Eat it like I'm dyin' of starvation
I'm at the finish line, her heart racing
Giver her the view if she caucasian 
My niggas wild as Jumanji 
You can call me an SOB 
'Cause it's skateboards over Bugattis 
I used to be at Heat games with better seats than Pat Riley
Don't stop, pop that, don't stop, pop that ollie - Tunechi! 

Click the badge to read Boo's verse: