Kendrick Lamar - Celebration LyricsCredits
release date: 2009-12-31
genres: Hip Hop
styles: Jazzy Hip-Hop/Hardcore Hip-Hop
[Produced by Sounwave]
For the record, I used to do a lot of humping when I was little
I got a lot of whoopings over that shit too, and that's random, but so what? Ha-ha
Gimme that beat fool, this a full time jack
No really this a Sounwave track
So really I ain't gotta steal nothing all I gotta do is kill it
When you press record button let the paralyzed feel it
I came back with a full time swag
And the critics thought they had me
Nah, I just bought more batteries
Turned up supercharged, a medium away from living large
Matter fact where my niggas at?
Where my bitches with them pretty weaves?
Enemies bleed on the maxi pad, pussy you fucked with the wrong one
I'm on one, I'll make sure your kids breathe pneumonia
Good kid, mad city evil in my heart
From the blood niggas fucking with me, crip niggas tryna kill me
Malcolm X mind state, if I raise the crime rate
It's a legitimate reason why
I put on repeat Kanye's "Touch the Sky"
But I'll be looking past that I'm tryna touch God
My heart to the heavens, the rebel of the reverend
Y'all married to the game well I'm 'bout to crash weddings
I put a lot of pain in the shit I write
If you going through something, this the shit you recite
This is bigger than life, this is Kendrick Lamar
This is Jimi Hendrix guitar on tour, bonjour, I mean war like that!
Yeah, straight like that
People don't be shy
Release them balloons to the sky
I need the world to celebrate me! (One time)
You'll never know when I'm gone (Two times)
In 2010, I'm tryna ball, nigga!
Like shooting jumpshots in the mall, nigga!
That's a quote from Ab-Soul
I suppose since you laugh that's the ultimate goal
On behalf of the Top Dawg conglomerate, shall stay anonymous
Searching seven continents accomplishing big shit
Big ass, big tits she on me
And just to get to me she'll fuck the homies... homie's homies
The life of a cool nigga, my nigga Tony said
"Just do you, nigga!" Show and prove, nigga
And they gon' play you for a fool that's for sure
'til they know you got the stinkiest stool, nigga!"
I ain't tripping I'm just tipping on fo-fo's
Back in the city and tipping on four hoes
That boy got a cold cold, he's sick con, slick on
Dropin red jewels like a school bar mitzvah, ooh
Straight like that
Why y'all complain about OG's?
I don't look at a legend and say you owe me
Not Snoop, not Dre, not Ice Cube
I don't care me and Quik went to the same school
I look in the mirror and do it myself
Like a self made nigga, I don't need a maid, nigga
Do I need a co-sign from Dre or Jigga?
They can make me much bigger
But do I need 'em though?, I just need a flow
The type of shit that make you think you seen Pac ghost
"Me Against The World" on you mothafuckas
I got my back against the wall and a .45, dog get smoked, Chris Tucker
Uhh, tryna record my steelo
Even when I'm not there just like TiVo
The hoes tell me that I got a real big ego
And weed move slow right now but E go
You know what I'm talking 'bout? I look at your Audemars
To put ya'll in time out, it's time to unveil the real
And your career is about as frail as Ms. Winehouse
Just salute, grab a flute, and pull the wine out, ooh
Just like that