[Verse 1: West Coast gangsta-rap male MC, hard knocking drums, slow cold gangsta-rap flow] Every time I drop, you got the same review "It all sounds the same," like a parrot in a zoo Said it at the swap meet, said it at the light Said it in the comments every single night Same five words on a loop, fo' sho Wore the groove so deep that the needle can't go So I pressed record while you ran it again Caught you at the cookout runnin' it to your friends Took that tired whine and put a kick under the buzz Now your gripe got a bassline, look at what it does, cuz [Hook: West Coast gangsta-rap male MC, full knocking gangsta-rap beat, cold chanted hook] You a broken record, run it one more time "It all sounds the same," and it's sellin' like a crime Every lowrider on the boulevard bumpin' it on repeat You a broken record and you broke the record on my street [Interlude: West Coast gangsta-rap male MC, record skip, the beat skips three times on the hater's phrase, then lands full] It all, it all, it all sounds the same It all, it all, it all sounds the same [Verse 2: West Coast gangsta-rap male MC, whining high keyboard lead, colder gangsta-rap bars] Week one, it's knockin' out of every trunk on the Ave Week two, the kids are dancin' to the gripe that you had Week three, it's in the gym, at the quinceanera too Week four, it's at your mama's house and she's hummin' it through You can't buy a soda without hearin' your own voice Every speaker on the block, homie, you ain't got a choice Hater on a hook, now I'm puttin' you to work Every time you open up your mouth, I get another verse You complained about the sameness, now the sameness is the wave Every word you ever threw at me is money that I saved [Hook: West Coast gangsta-rap male MC, full knocking gangsta-rap beat, cold chanted hook] You a broken record, run it one more time "It all sounds the same," and it's sellin' like a crime Every lowrider on the boulevard bumpin' it on repeat You a broken record and you broke the record on my street [Verse 3: West Coast gangsta-rap male MC, deep rolling bass, slow menacing gangsta-rap flow] Then you pull up at my door with a lawyer and a pen Said "that's my voice, my line, I want a cut of it, my friend" I said "hold up, run that back, so you're sayin' it's a song? So it's music when it pays, but it was noise all along?" You can have a credit, put your name in tiny print Right under the word "hater," homie, next to "never had a hint" Fo' sho, I'll cut you in, I'll cut you a slice You can have a nickel every time you say it twice So go 'head and say it, say it, say it till you hoarse Every time you hate it, I get richer, cuz, of course [Final Hook: West Coast gangsta-rap male MC, full knocking gangsta-rap beat, coldest chanted hook] You a broken record, run it one more time "It all sounds the same," and it's sellin' like a crime Every lowrider on the boulevard bumpin' it on repeat You a broken record and you broke the record on my street [End]
