Kendrick Lamar Lyrics

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Members Only Lyrics

feat. Pimp C

from Section 80

"Members Only" is track #12 on the album Section 80. It was written by Lamar, Kendrick / Unknown Composer, Author.
"Members Only" is track #12 on the album Section 80. It was written by Lamar, Kendrick / Unknown Composer, Author.

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Smoking out, pouring up, keep that lean up in my cup
All my car got leather and wood in my hood we call it buck
Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall
If he up, watch him fall, I can't fuck with y'all
(Pussy ass ho niggas) I can't fuck with y'all
(Bitches all up in my business) I can't fuck with y'all
(Industry of counterfeits) I can't fuck with y'all

Taking off when you landing
Bitch niggas gonna throw tantrums
And I'm dancing on them stars
The galaxy ain't got room for y'all
Ain't nothing gonna happen soon for y'all
While I'm here and every day I hear your bullshit, self-pity
Reason why you never dealt with me
Reason why your girl dealt with me
Hands up, in the building we get busy and say
R.I.P. Aaliyah, R.I.P., yep, R.I.P. Aaliyah, R.I.P., yep
That's exactly what this sound like
A to the A to the L-I-Y-A-H, give it up two time
Then give it right back, don't blow my high

Smoking out, pouring up, keep that lean up in my cup
All my car got leather and wood in my hood we call it buck
Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall
If he up, watch him fall, I can't fuck with y'all
(Pussy ass ho niggas) I can't fuck with y'all
(Bitches all up in my business) I can't fuck with y'all
(Industry of counterfeits) I can't fuck with y'all

Look at my life then look at yours
Get some ambition, why you bored?
Time'll never wait on no man
Society will never hold your hand
Niggas like the gossip, like bitches
Got me thinking you don't like bitches
Wonder what's behind them Ray Bans
Eyes of a coward, I understand
Niggas like the gossip, like bitches
Sip Don Perignon, when we finish, we say
R.I.P. Aaliyah, R.I.P., yep, R.I.P. Aaliyah, R.I.P., yep
That's exactly what this sound like
But never will I ever forget Left Eye
Roll up, put a ribbon in the sky
And a button on your lips, don't blow my high

Smoking out, pouring up, keep that lean up in my cup
All my car got leather and wood in my hood we call it buck
Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the mall
If he up, watch him fall, I can't fuck with y'all
(Pussy ass ho niggas) I can't fuck with y'all
(Bitches all up in my business) I can't fuck with y'all
(Industry of counterfeits) I can't fuck with y'all

Now everybody singing this shit
I'm sending him a four page letter
And I enclose it with a kiss
And when I write him he better, get it on time

Look at my life then look at yours
Get some ambition, why you bored?
R.I.P. Aaliyah, R.I.P., R.I.P. Aaliyah, R.I.P.
R.I.P. Aaliyah, R.I.P., R.I.P. Aaliyah, R.I.P.

Songwriters
LAMAR, KENDRICK / UNKNOWN COMPOSER, AUTHOR

Published by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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