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"How Far We Go (Uptown 81)" lyrics by SMOKE DZA
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"How Far We Go (Uptown 81)"
[feat. Kendrick Lamar]

Gather 'round hustlas that's if ya still livin'
And get on down with this THC vision

[Verse 1: Smoke DZA]
The last of a dying breed too many whack artists
So tell em Parappa the Rapper nigga rap harder
Like being garbage some type of disease
I take em out their misery, make it harder to breathe
Ain't no problem to me, call me Father MC
Pay homage to a God, bitch fall on your knees
Hood booga wannabe house wife gassed off nini
High sadity meanie tryna emulate the TV
But this real, fuck how you feel
Call of Duty mode with these verses, lot of kills
First niggas doubted the flow, now how you feel?
If this was back in the days you'd get a lot of gills
Gimme mines, I really rhyme
Yup really I'm, one of the illest niggas doin' it
Or these niggas is losin' it, silly minds
They try to style on a New York nigga
Like my flow ain't cold like a New York winter
I don't stunt, I regulate
Seen empires separate
Best friends kill best friends everyday
For petty sake not even heavyweight, it's never good
There's a Rich Porter story in every hood, DZA

[Chorus: Smoke DZA]
No matter how far we go
We forever be real, we'll never fold
Know my niggas stay down, we all we know
We gotta get it so we live it just remember what we do and won't stop

[Verse 2: Kendrick Lamar]
My turbulence put a burden on young herbs
Once it's crackin' it's a chain reaction minus Yung Berg
I'm on the verge of excellence kill em off with no evidence
Take a shot at the Excorcist then X em out with these words
Panoramic views be tumblin' out my mind
This ain't 1992 bullets tumblin' out no nines
Big AK's like Alicia Keys abbreviated
And nowadays niggas stand behind em like Clive Davis
Clyde Drexler, before the hood got dribbled niggas right up on the stretcher
An understatement said that K. Lamar was under pressure
Don't press ya luck when I'm pressed for time
Cause when the press get this verse, their sure to press rewind
The president's prayer can't save us in my cul-de-sac
There's codeine, crack and cognac enough violence to keep the devil smilin' while we whilin' on them corners with them ropes and rats
Nigga build a trap house, hope his homies don't run his trap
See the Feds and tap out that's wrestler shit
Don't rest your case as a gangsta because you wrestled your bitch
We move in silence, like the potato tip when we ridin'
And we ride rotten, 2 choppers found dirty sirens
You ain't been where I been, I know where I'm goin'
And life's a bitch, I know that she hoing
I know what I'm sewing, what I reap
I know that I'm flowing like water from sea or water from creek
And if I don't speak, I know you ain't growin
Cause I'm a leader, respect it when you see em
Accepted by yo new bitch, yo old bitch and yo BM
Y'all always on that BS and PS I'm takin all things
I'm takin off first, this G6 is on it's way

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