Institutionalized

Album: To Pimp A Butterfly (2015)
Charted: 99
  • What money got to do with it
    When I don't know the full definition of a rap image?
    I'm trapped inside the ghetto and I ain't proud to admit it
    Institutionalized, I keep runnin' back for a visit
    Hol' up
    Get it back
    I said I'm trapped inside the ghetto and I ain't proud to admit it
    Institutionalized, I could still kill me a nigga, so what?

    If I was the president
    I'd pay my mama's rent
    Free my homies and them
    Bulletproof my Chevy doors
    Lay in the White House and get high, Lord
    Who ever thought?
    Master take the chains off me

    Life can be like a box of chocolate
    Quid pro quo, somethin' for somethin', that's the obvious
    Oh shit, flow's so sick, don't you swallow it
    Bitin' my style, you're salmonella poison positive
    I can just alleviate the rap industry politics
    Milk the game up, never lactose intolerant
    The last remainder of real shit, you know the obvious
    Me scholarship? No, streets put me through colleges
    Be all you can be, true, but the problem is
    A dream's only a dream if work don't follow it
    Remind me of the homies that used to know me, now follow this
    I'll tell you my hypothesis, I'm probably just way too loyal
    K Dizzle would do it for you, my niggas think I'm a god
    Truthfully all of 'em spoiled, usually you're never charged
    But somethin' came over you once I took you to the fuckin' BET Awards
    You lookin' at artists like the harvests
    So many Rollies around you and you want all of them
    Somebody told me you thinkin' 'bout snatchin' jewelry
    I should've listened what my grandmama said to me

    Shit don't change until you get up and wash your ass nigga
    Shit don't change until you get up and wash your ass
    Shit don't change until you get up and wash your ass nigga
    Oh now, slow down

    And once upon a time in a city so divine
    Called West Side Compton, there stood a little nigga
    He was 5 foot something, God bless the kid
    Took his homie to the show and this is what they said

    Fuck am I 'posed to do when I'm lookin' at walkin' licks?
    The convicts talk 'bout matchin', money and foreign whips
    The private jets and passports, presidential glass floor
    Gold bottles, gold models, sniffin' up the ass for
    Instagram flicks, suck a dick, fuck is this?
    One more suck away from wavin' flashy wrist
    My defense mechanism tell me to get him, quickly because he got it
    It's the recession, then why the fuck he in King of Diamonds?
    No more livin' poor, meet my .44
    When I see 'em, put the per diem on the floor
    Now Kendrick, know they're your co-workers
    But it's gon' take a lot for this pistol go cold turkey
    Now I can watch his watch on the TV and be okay
    But see I'm on the clock once that watch landin' in LA
    Remember steal from the rich and givin' it back to the poor?
    Well that's me at these awards
    I guess my grandmama was warnin' a boy
    She said

    Shit don't change until you get up and wash your ass nigga
    Shit don't change until you get up and wash your ass
    Shit don't change until you get up and wash your ass nigga
    Oh now, slow down

    And once upon a time in a city so divine
    Called West Side Compton, there stood a little nigga
    He was 5 foot something, dazed and confused
    Talented but still under the neighborhood ruse
    You can take your boy out the hood but you can't take the hood out the homie
    Took his show money, stashed it in the mozey wozey
    Hollywood's nervous
    Fuck you, goodnight, thank you much for your service Writer/s: Columbus Tower Smith, Sam Barsh, Fredrik Nils Olof Halldin, Kendrick Lamar Duckworth
    Publisher: Warner Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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