More songs by Mustard
More songs by Dom Kennedy
Description
Producer: Mustard
Recording Engineer, Studio Personnel: James Royo
Asst. Recording Engineer, Studio Personnel: José Sandoval
Assistant Mixer, Studio Personnel: Victor Luevanos
Composer Lyricist: Dijon McFarlane
Composer Lyricist: Dominic Hunn
Composer Lyricist: Rodney Brown
Lyrics and translation
Original
Mustard on the beat, ho.
All my Detroit niggas, all my LA niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NO niggas, all my B-MO niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NY niggas, all my Chi-Town niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my GA niggas, hold up, all my Bay niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up. Everybody got problems.
Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol. Everybody got problems.
Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a -big ass pistol. -I'm relaxing, getting high.
Niggas ain't shit, I'm just rapping on the side.
Told them pussy, paper, passion, and some pride. I got everything a nigga ever wanted before I die. Uh, two Rolexes that
I don't even wear. A big gold chain I ain't seen in a year.
Leimer Park nigga looking clean in the mirror. Your girl want me, I can see it from here.
Yeah, trying to make money in France and smoke plants.
You little niggas is hot, there's no chance. Two-step, my niggas just don't dance.
If you ever say my name, nigga, we throw hands.
Told them put your ink through program, we hold bands on that OPM shit. You know we in this with the actual, actual.
You talk all reckless, bitch in real life, yeah, that's what I expected, nigga.
All my Detroit niggas, all my LA niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up. All my
NO niggas, all my B-MO niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NY niggas, all my Chi-Town niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my GA niggas, hold up, all my Bay niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
Everybody got problems. Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol. Everybody got problems.
Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking -around with a big ass pistol. -Not a rapper, way too street with it. All
I did was take my life and put a Mustard beat with it.
I'm deep with it, believe in it, I speak it.
If I did that, I'll doot doot, hello, and now them niggas where you live at. Tuesdays and Thursdays them white people jumping out.
Problems on my dick, have your girlfriend suck it out. A born sinner, but life killers die winners.
I'll cook my momma dope before I cook a bitch dinner. Old pussy ass nigga.
I smell placenta, dressed sharper than the mind of a seven percenter.
Thinking about robbing me, take your brain off. She only want a cut 'cause she chainsaw. With the
Bible as my sword and that Ruger as my shield. Bitch, my movement round too real,
Oxycontin, Valium pills. It's a cold life, my favorite numbers is four five.
Donald Sterling, Clifford, nigga I don't like.
All my Detroit niggas, all my LA niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up. All my
NO niggas, all my B-MO niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NY niggas, all my Chi-Town niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my GA niggas, hold up, all my Bay niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
Everybody got problems. Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol. Everybody got problems.
Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol. Uh, it ain't where you from, but it's where you at.
I down to load a drum quicker than your apps.
Little nigga trying to boss, better scream for me. Birds of a feather waiting on a wing from me.
And I never let a nigga think for me. Hide beneath the suicides with the seats bloodied.
Look, I'll trade a mark like a logo for any real nigga ever put up on a Polo.
Hold on, there go those niggas. Whole shows both coasts, I'll throw no feelings.
No chilling, got a chop and a chicken. Where you from? I threw mine to the ceiling.
Put a foreign off the lot, you got deported. And a quarter for the watch, you're getting extorted.
Little niggas want war, but can't afford it.
Put your life on the line, that bitch a snort it. Hey. All my Detroit niggas, all my LA niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NO niggas, all my B-MO niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up. All my
NY niggas, all my Chi-Town niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my GA niggas, hold up, all my Bay niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
Everybody got problems. Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked.
Everybody got issues. Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol.
Everybody got problems. Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked.
Everybody got issues. Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol
English translation
Mustard on the beat, ho.
All my Detroit niggas, all my LA niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NO niggas, all my B-MO niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NY niggas, all my Chi-Town niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my GA niggas, hold up, all my Bay niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up. Everybody got problems.
Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol. Everybody got problems.
Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a -big ass pistol. -I'm relaxing, getting high.
Niggas ain't shit, I'm just rapping on the side.
Told them pussy, paper, passion, and some pride. I got everything a nigga ever wanted before I die. Uh, two Rolexes that
I don't even wear. A big gold chain I ain't seen in a year.
Leimer Park nigga looking clean in the mirror. Your girl want me, I can see it from here.
Yeah, trying to make money in France and smoke plants.
You little niggas is hot, there's no chance. Two-step, my niggas just don't dance.
If you ever say my name, nigga, we throw hands.
Told them put your ink through program, we hold bands on that OPM shit. You know we in this with the actual, actual.
You talk all reckless, bitch in real life, yeah, that's what I expected, nigga.
All my Detroit niggas, all my LA niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up. All my
NO niggas, all my B-MO niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NY niggas, all my Chi-Town niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my GA niggas, hold up, all my Bay niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
Everybody got problems. Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol. Everybody got problems.
Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking -around with a big ass pistol. -Not a rapper, way too street with it. All
I did was take my life and put a Mustard beat with it.
I'm deep with it, believe in it, I speak it.
If I did that, I'll doot doot, hello, and now them niggas where you live at. Tuesdays and Thursdays them white people jumping out.
Problems on my dick, have your girlfriend suck it out. A born sinner, but life killers die winners.
I'll cook my momma dope before I cook a bitch dinner. Old pussy ass nigga.
I smell placenta, dressed sharper than the mind of a seven percenter.
Thinking about robbing me, take your brain off. She only want a cut 'cause she chainsaw. With the
Bible as my sword and that Ruger as my shield. Bitch, my movement round too real,
Oxycontin, Valium pills. It's a cold life, my favorite numbers is four five.
Donald Sterling, Clifford, nigga I don't like.
All my Detroit niggas, all my LA niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up. All my
NO niggas, all my B-MO niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NY niggas, all my Chi-Town niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my GA niggas, hold up, all my Bay niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
Everybody got problems. Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol. Everybody got problems.
Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked. Everybody got issues.
Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol. Uh, it ain't where you from, but it's where you at.
I down to load a drum quicker than your apps.
Little nigga trying to boss, better scream for me. Birds of a feather waiting on a wing from me.
And I never let a nigga think for me. Hide beneath the suicides with the seats bloodied.
Look, I'll trade a mark like a logo for any real nigga ever put up on a Polo.
Hold on, there go those niggas. Whole shows both coasts, I'll throw no feelings.
No chilling, got a chop and a chicken. Where you from? I threw mine to the ceiling.
Put a foreign off the lot, you got deported. And a quarter for the watch, you're getting extorted.
Little niggas want war, but can't afford it.
Put your life on the line, that bitch a snort it. Hey. All my Detroit niggas, all my LA niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my NO niggas, all my B-MO niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up. All my
NY niggas, all my Chi-Town niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
All my GA niggas, hold up, all my Bay niggas, where you at? Throw your hood up.
Everybody got problems. Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked.
Everybody got issues. Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol.
Everybody got problems. Everybody got shirts 'cause they nigga got murked.
Everybody got issues. Everybody walking around with a big ass pistol