The Heart, Pt. 3

One two, one two, one two
One two, one two, one two
One two
Turn the headphones up, Ali
One two
You mix with Dre, right?
Turn the headphones up
When the world see you as Pac reincarnated
That's enough pressure to live your whole life sedated
Find the tallest building in Vegas and jump off it
But I could never rewrite history in a coffin
So I'm talking to God, "Can you wash all these demons off me?"
This last year I've been quite similar to Aaliyah
Control my own destiny, only rapper that steered
A G5, g's give high-fives to me and say,
"Kendrick, just persevere."
The presence of being real
As I lay in this four corner room staring at candles
Thinking, "How can I make an example, for this generation of Compton?"
My biggest fear is not feeling accomplished
Or turning back to that same accomplice
My past life was a child with no act right
Trying to smile in a room of killers, turn into a crash site
Influenced by niggas that spoke the gang culture fluent
Assuring that some blossom early and some truant
Thank God for the album I idolized
It's dark and plus hell is hot, that's the start of this crazy ride
Two young niggas, me and Dave inside the garage
And thought we was Jay and Dame
That's the lane that we tried to drive
Truthfully, I just started rappin' to get away
I never thought that your favorite rapper would want a verse
My nigga got hit 25 times with a K
Make the decision, ride the beat or ride in a hearse
Now Punch is my mentor, Top Dawg is the coach
Jay Rock is my older brother, I was there when he wrote
His name on his record deal, we had figured the coast
Would live on a pedestal, once the shit hit the store
Found ourselves scrambling, tryna figure it out
Soul told me that the record shop 'bout to go in a drought
Q ain't got a place to stay, and 'bout to sleep on the couch
We eatin' off each other tray, the dollar menu amount
Meanwhile the coast going hard at each other
The younger rappers had wanted some of the OGs' comfort
But I ain't need it
I never screamed out the 'New West', I didn't believe it
They brought each other down, I was planning out my achievements
I need to seperate myself to stand out
I need a better way to take your fans now
I need to kill you motherfuckers dead
Three hollow tips aimed at your head
I'll be damned if the chopper jam now
And we never asked for no hand out
In the midst of it all I recall a call when you said how
We could never resolve in the Hall of Fame
And I went to the trial with a Bible and a rifle
I play the game as I plan blow
Hollaback at me, nigga
And if they said I'm the one, why you asking me, nigga?
Cause when the whole world see you as Pac reincarnated
Enough pressure to make you just open the Book of David
And pray to God that ya make it or live your life in the matrix
Cause falling off is a sickness, I heard that it's quite contagious
I need to seperate myself to stand out
I need a better way to take your fans now
I need to kill you motherfuckers dead
Three hollow tips aimed at your head
I'll be damned if the chopper jam now
And we never asked for no hand out
I'll take you back to that pack of Black & Milds in my hand now
In the midst of it all was cooking with pots and pans out
Looking forward as four of us are forced to form a new clan now
Fast forward as I wait in line for this passport
The homies was still poor, with work in a Jansport
Whoever thought that Rosenberg would mention me to Dre?
Even Vanessa from Double-XL had told him press play
And there goes my fate, now I'm on stage with Snoop
Gave me the torch and I ran with it high pursuit
Rapped with my forefathers, even record with Gaga too
Lyricist of the year, fuck am I supposed to do?
Rock
Laughing at you niggas out there who thought we was flukes
Exaggerated shit that we rapped had came true
Thought I was aggravated, when Warner had let me loose
I was honest, see they was haunted when Mike Jones didn't recoup
Cool, cause niggas won't outdo us in the booth
Even when my album leak, fans still buy it for proof
I came, I saw, I conquered
No shame, I blame all of this on Compton
Thinkin' 'bout when Sherane tried to set me up
Cold game, full circle, they set her up
I put my life in these twelve songs, my fight in these twelve songs
The fight to ignite any wrong or right that I prolong
The story was short film, the glory of him and them
The worry of mothers that don't recover when baby's killed
The trial and the tribulations, the newer Miseducation
The view of a body wasting, you knew somebody who ain't make it
The angry, the adolescent, the reason I ask this question
Will you let hip-hop die on Octoben 22nd?
Will you let hip-hop die on Octoben 22nd?