H.o.c., h.o.c.

All the real smokers give me h.o.c.

All the real smokers give me h.o.c.

H.o.c., h.o.c.

All the real smokers give me h.o.c.

H.o.c.

Everybody know I spit that hunk of shit

Shit that make you duck for cover shit

Shit that make you hop out your seat and slap your mother shit

Especially when drop drop the beat

I drop jewels like my nuts dropped out of my briefs

Jump in the booth, then shatter every rapper's dream

They jump in a sauna because I killed their self-esteem

That's a jab, you should bob and weave

Like pam when martin pulled jokes out his sleeve

I go in studio sessions and feel like a nerd

Cause I'm the only nigga there not smoking no herb

You telling me the kush make you think on level four?

I'm on five, you saying I can level more?

In high school, my teachers thought I was smoking stress

Didn't know my eyes low cause of genetic defects

I stimulate my mind every time I think about the end of time

Creation of man and columbine.

[Chorus]

Bet you think that this some high shit that I wrote

Probably think I'm off the kush or the hydro

I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke

I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke

I really appreciate that you share your endo

But a sip of henny is the farthest I would go

I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke

I don't even smoke, I don't even smoke.

Look, nowadays everybody think they big chiefers

Just cause they heard that new tape from wiz khalifa

Knowing damn well they can't hit the sour

They new booties, they probably need baby powder

My skill shower over your city for forty days

Forty nights, off the chain like freedom of slaves

Before you get it twisted like forty gays

My flow worth the earth, that's not to be appraised

Those the type of lines that I'm talking bout

You know, the type of rhymes you don't talk about

Copy my session on a disc when the session ends

So my mama can have it and play it for her friends

Brag on me like my son's bout to win

Somehow, someday, and I don't care when

I might hit the gin once a month

I'll let you inhale/in hell, like an atheist.

[Chorus]

Uhh, I'll take you back to the ninth grade

When dough boy had me high for four days

That's my nigga, he a street nigga

Probably in your hood fucking up your street nigga

But anyway, I think it was some purple

Told me don't hit it hard because it'll hurt you

I didn't listen, I was floating like the rose parade

Swear to god a nigga seen some flying fishes

That was the vegas trip hooters sponsored

The same time I start writing like a fucking monster

I'm frankenstein every time this motherfucker ponders

Just underline every letter

Capital k-d-o-t, letting it flat out

Like a tire with slow leaks, and what you bout?

Nothing huh? am I square cause I don't puff a square?

Are my raps too blunt to hit the blunt? yeah...

[Chorus]

[Kendrick lamar (screwed)]

H.o.c., h.o.c.

All the real smokers give me h.o.c.

All the real smokers give me h.o.c. (bitch I'm blowed!)

H.o.c., h.o.c. (bitch I'm blowed!)

All the real smokers give me h.o.c.

All the real smokers give me h.o.c.