Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Kendrick Lamar
Vocals
Lefty Gunplay
Additional Vocals
Paul Cartwright
Violin
Yvette Devereaux
Violin
Tylana Renga
Violin
Reiko Nakano
Violin
Marta Honer
Violin
Chad Jackson
Violin
Peter Jacobson
Cello
Miles Mosley
Bass
Serafin Aguilar
Horn
Ryan Porter
Horn
Sean Sonderegger
Horn
Rickey Washington
Horn
Amber Joy Wyman
Horn
Zem Audu
Tenor Saxophone
Evan Smith
Baritone Saxophone
Jack Antonoff
Programming
Kamasi Washington
Conductor
Malik Taylor
Horn
Monk Higgins
Sampled Artist
Mustard
Programming
Sean Momberger
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kendrick Lamar
Composer
Sean Momberger
Composer
Jack Antonoff
Composer
Kamasi Washington
Composer
Larry Jayy
Composer
Dijon McFarlane
Composer
Jimmy Webb
Composer
John Barry
Composer
Jay Hawkins
Composer
Christopher Wallace
Composer
Chris Martin
Composer
Mark Anthony Spears
Composer
Tony Austin
String Arranger
Mark Spears
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mustard
Producer
Sean Momberger
Producer
Mark Spears
Producer
Jack Antonoff
Producer
Kamasi Washington
Producer
Tony Austin
Recording Engineer
Zem Audu
Recording Engineer
Evan Smith
Recording Engineer
Ray Charles Brown Jr.
Recording Engineer
Johnathan Turner
Recording Engineer
Laura Sisk
Recording Engineer
Oli Jacobs
Mixing Engineer
Ruairí O'Flaherty
Mastering Engineer
Kendrick Lamar
Executive Producer
Matt Cerritos
Immersive Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
All I ever wanted was a Black Grand National
Fuck bein' rational, give 'em what they ask for
There's not enough (ay)
Few solid niggas left, but it's not enough
Few bitches that'll really step, but it's not enough
Say you bigger than myself, but it's not enough (huh)
I get on they ass, yeah, somebody gotta do it
I make 'em niggas mad, yeah, somebody gotta do it
I take a G pass, yeah, watch a nigga do it (huh)
We survived outside, all from the music, nigga, what?
They like, "What he on?"
It's the alpha and omega, bitch, welcome home
This is not a song
This a revelation, how to get a nigga gone
You need you a man, baby, I don't wanna slam, baby
Pay your bill, and make you feel protected like I can, baby
Teach you somethin' if you need correction, that's the plan, baby
Don't put your life in these weird niggas' hands, baby (wop)
There's not enough (ay)
Few solid niggas left, but it's not enough
Few bitches that'll really step, but it's not enough
Say you bigger than myself, but it's not enough (huh)
I get on they ass, yeah, somebody gotta do it
I make 'em niggas mad, yeah, somebody gotta do it
I take a G pass, yeah, watch a nigga do it (huh)
We survived outside, all from the music, nigga, what?
Hey, turn this TV off
Ain't with my type activities? Then don't you get involved
Hey, what? How many shit I seen? Seen 'em all
Take a risk or take a trip, you know I'm trippin' for my dog
Who you with? Couple sergeants and lieutenants for the get-back
This revolution been televised, I fell through with the knick-knacks
Hey, young nigga, get your chili up, yeah, I meant that
Hey, black out if they act out, yeah, I did that
Hey, what's up, dog?
I hate a bitch that's hatin' on a bitch and they both hoes
I hate a nigga hatin' on 'em niggas and they both broke
If you ain't comin' for no chili, what you come for?
Nigga feel like he entitled 'cause he knew me since a kid
Bitch, I cut my granny off, if she won't see it how I see it
Hm, got a big mouth, but he lack big ideas
Send him to the moon, that's just how I feel, yellin'
There's not enough (ay)
Few solid niggas left, but it's not enough
Few bitches that'll really step, but it's not enough
Say you bigger than myself, but it's not enough
Huh, huh, huh
Hey, hey (Mustard on the beat, ho)
Mustard
Niggas actin' bad, but somebody gotta do it
Got my foot up on the gas, but somebody gotta do it
Huh, turn this TV off, turn this TV off
Huh, turn this TV off, turn this TV off
Huh, turn this TV off, turn this TV off
Huh, turn this TV off, turn this TV off
Ain't no other king in this rap thing, they siblings
Nothin' but my children, one shot, they disappearin'
I'm in a city where the flag be gettin' thrown like it was
Pass interference, padlock around the buildin'
CRASH, pullin' up in unmarked truck just to play freeze tag
With a bone to pick, like it was sea bass
So when I made it out, I made about 50K from a show
Tryna show niggas the ropes before they hung from a rope
I'm prophetic, they only talk about it, how I get it
Only good for savin' face, seen the cosmetics
How many heads I gotta take to level my aesthetics?
Hurry up and get your muscle up, we out to plyometric
Nigga ran up out of luck soon as I up the highest metric
The city just made it sweet, you could die, I bet it
They mouth get full of deceit, let these cowards tell it
Walk in New Orleans with the etiquette of LA, yellin'
Mustard (oh, man)
Niggas actin' bad, but somebody gotta do it
Got my foot up on the gas, but somebody gotta do it
Huh, turn this TV off, turn this TV off
Huh, turn this TV off, turn this TV off
Huh, turn this TV off, turn this TV off
Huh, turn this TV off, turn this TV off
Shit gets crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious
Crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious
Shit gets crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious
Crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious
Shit gets crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious
Crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious
Shit gets crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious
Crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious
Writer(s): Jimmy Webb, Jay Hawkins, Sean Aaron Momberger, Jack Michael Antonoff, Monk Higgins, Chris Martin, Christopher Wallace, John Barry, Kamasi Tii Washington, Kendrick Duckworth, Mark Spears, Dijon Mcfarlane
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com