Get ready for this year's best L.A. posse cut that you'll hear this side of YG's My Krazy Life. DJ / radio host / producer Salva has assembled a crew that contains Death Row veteran Kurupt, TDE's Schoolboy Q, and young L.A. sensations Problem and Bad Lucc for his new track "Drop That Bitch." Take a listen above, click the shopping cart button for a free download and view the lyrics below.
With strains of Eazy E's "Boyz N The Hood" fading in and out, "Drop That Bitch" finds Salva showcasing an intriguing contrast between chaos and minimalism, with noisy builds quickly giving way to the L.A. minimalism that's traceable from Dr. Dre to DJ Mustard. In terms of rapping, the track is everything a posse cut should be: loose, fun and competitive.
For more of Salva's music, visit his official SoundCloud page. The lyrics to "Drop That Bitch" are below.
Salva ft Kurupt, Schoolboy Q, Problem & Bad Lucc "Drop that Bitch" lyrics:
In that motherfucker hangin' and she forever be sangin'
With that thang in the back make you backtrack, look up, it's somewhere bangin'
When I pull up and bang that track in the four, and there ain't no stoppin' this soul
L.A. Metropolis so, there just ain't no stoppin' when I hit that
Bomb hid in my car, got that bomb weed in my jar, got them bomb seeds in my garden
Valley girl, Dolly Parton
If that shit don't be poppin' got them dope fiends in Compton
Got my niggaros and my bitches though, where motherfuckers keep poppin' molly
Broccoli in my pocket's pocket, oxys in my pocket prolly
Smokin' heavy in my Impala, Chevy parkin' and it's toxic
This that gangster instrumental, original indo
For the hoes in sexy clothes, their nigga never touched the bankroll
Lemme get that
Ugly nigga with a gang of bitches
Hoover street, nifty fifty business
In my bitch whip with my L suspended
Big pimpin', misleadin' women
Extra innings, been good at pitchin'
Blue khakis, I'm Locc'd out
Got nekkid hoes in the dope house
Put them hoes on a DVD
Show them hoes what this pimp 'bout
I'm pill poppin', feds is watchin'
I hopped the fence, I don't need Cochran
Clapped the DUI, but my gun loaded
If a man made it, then my end sold it
If the sun shinin', then a bitch know it
Come holler at your young scholar
I'm top dawg, I'm Rock Rallah
I'm gang bangin', I spit lava
I drink brews and I make moves
I went so hard for these new shoes
I go so deep in her vocals
I lay it down on this Pro Tool
I'm real nigga, you's hopeful
World tours and you local
How you say this shit on the menu?
Gimme large fries, I'll be cool
Put your hands by your ankles
Make it clap for me, for this bank roll
I'll gladly poke on that pink oh
Roll some leaves some straight backwoods
Hit my weed and I owe ya baby
Might buy something, that hair good
Now lemme pinch on that donkey lady
Whaaaaat? This a banger though
Kurt Angle the way I play the rings
Chains on, the fame's on
But I'm still good with that bottom bing, boy
Ha haaaa, my foreign chicks love coming to America
They go back like 'I never thought a Problem would have me cummin' in America'
Blast off, I smash off like 'vroooom'
With a bitch that's easy as Blue's Clues
Dirty flow, need two brooms
Dominate everything, we hittin' everything, like we was juicin'
Minute Maid, knock it out the park, 'nother home run, you gon' run home
Cali mind, play with mine, make it run home
While you on the phone line, by the nigga junkie (what man?)
Fuck you, no I didn't ever like that
But you sayin' that, so it kinda make a nigga want to
Me off the weed, little bitch, I'm the bomb
Finna fuck, then I bump, let her keep hold her pumps
Then I dump, then I'm onto the next
Compton the home, and the chrome to your neck
Fuck all that, fuck all that, niggas tryin' to turn up one more time
Niggas thought I was done with the rappin'
Fuck that style I need one more line
Nick where you at? Roll something more fire
Shit too bomb, won't pass that up
Zombieland gang, Zombieland gang
Problem, Casha and Bad Lucc
Hold up, bruh don't forget the Lucc
Four finger ring 'cause the squad is rusty
Square can't touch me, homicide on the track made it musty
Town ave original rep, Diadora air, x'd it out like a field goal
Imma show you where meals go, knocked out I still go
Never that jack on, hit 'em with the right left, throw 'em
I don't play none, you can get the blat blat, unh
Sit him on his ass like 'unh, where you niggas from?'
Weed 'em out crazy lady
Your baby mama lookin' like she made to pay me, shady baby
Spend a bankroll on the aces baby, you ain't gettin' money, hey you crazy lady
Bad Lucc wit it I go, fat nigga lookin' like a billion, I know
Rap nigga wanna bust his head on the low
You rather hit a train than take a shower or a snow
Fuckin' with your broad, man I spendin' by the O
I don't wanna keep her, you can get her from the show
Feelin' hella good, I'm just doin' what I know
Got a king open up your head for the door
Hundred shots of that Fireball
My hood got it covered like Firewall
If a nigga blink twice then I'm lyin' to y'all
But if you can't see my face, then I'm lion to y'all
Start the beef and I push the line
Diamond lane, I'm from a different kind
I do what I want, nigga fuck the next line
Source: Salva Official SoundCloud Page