Back Sellin' Crack

[Verse 1: Vince Staples]

I done beat the breaks off niggas

Shot the face off niggas

Pending case with the state, and I'm still out trippin'

All the feds take pictures, fuckin' up my image

Even mama bringin' drama, I don't trust no bitches

See these hoes be out here switching their sides

When its time for the killin' i ride

Look right in my eyes, been ready to die, risk felony time for threatening mine

Better than I, nobody alive

Nobody live the life that i did

Fighting to live since I was kid

Playing in the yard with a 30-06

House look like a gun range

Room look like a gun store

Either you're gonna know my name, or niggas dying young and poor

Either way don't give a fuck, you gon' find me northbound

With the shit, I'm in the shit

You know I love them gun sounds

7's cry, macs applaud

They taking shots, I had to call

You catch 'em out the shot gun, that's Roddy White from 50 yards

No body shots, I'm hitting jaws

Tryna run you Stephen Hawking

You see I mean this shit I'm talking

You don't want no problem



[Hook]

Slave to the rhythm, shoot my master in his back

Two dope boys, in the Cadillac strapped

Wood grain dash, windshield stained glass

Beatin' down the ave, like we back sellin' crack

Killin' for the karma, but livin' for my mama

Trouble what the call us, and nothing what they offer

Off 'em, and they wonder why niggas get shot

And they wonder why niggas shot



[Verse 2: Vince Staples]

Where you at, where you from?

Cause it's hot where I'm at

Any time of the day you get robbed you get jumped

It's a game we play, to get paid

For the wants to the needs to the young

Snakes slide through the grass

Blades slide in the back, of the used and abused

Tryna walk in my shoes

Get tripped by my fuse, too short

Ask God what you want, he said I want your life

Well I ain't live mine right

But if I do the crime I do the time

I ain't scared of shit, I was born to die

Extended clip, big .45 been quick to trip

Been lost my mind

When I die, please don't let mama cry

Cause she know it had to be him or I

And I got caught slippin'

Get a gun and go knock that nigga

Run up on him, no mask, no feelings, no room for that

They shoot at us, then we shootin' back

Burnin' shells till I burn in hell

And I'm cool with that, that uzi packed

I done learned a lot in these 19 years

Lotta homies ain't shed one tear

God decide what my curfew is

So till that day, I'mma do my shit

I proved my shit, they know my name

Not proud of the outcome either have regrets or

Be out young, don't sleep



[Hook]



[Verse 3: Sc
Hoolboy Q]

I took the blue pill and its evidence was s
Hown

Homies from elementary some t
Hem niggas gone

I got t
His cocaine

But my stove ain't turning on

I got t
Hat knock-knock

Uuh, yeaH you know

Riding in t
He w
Hip for sure

No Ls in t
He w
Hip for sure

All t
He Homies strapped but it ain't for s
How

Tryna Hit a lick, no envelope

Nigga, weed ain't t
He only t
Hing get smoked

Cuz got g
Host 'fore He even got ghost

Cuz got toast and He ain't old enough to drink

SHouldn't been singing

Now His ass Murder Inc

Sunny LA, w
Here we never need a mink

Sunny LA, w
Here t
He youngers don't t
Hink

Sunny LA, w
Here t
He Heat get sprayed

And every ot
Her word on t
He wall get K'ed

All the Homies taking you to parking space

THis my set, I ain't Hearing w
Hatcha say

Back t
Hen Had to be in by 10

But out by 12

My man just said t
He word

I got t
He text on t
He cell

Back witH t
He Locs raising Hell

Found out t
He Homie in a cell

I know we Hated school

But it's better t
Han jail

Gotta t
Hank God I was saved by t
He bell

Tryna spit bars

I ain't trying to live be
Hind 'em

So I keep my face Here

Right w
Here I found t
Hem

Nigga my rawness

Fuck t
Hrough a condom

Ready w
Hen I'm rapping

No wonder w
Hy t
Hey signed Him

Done witH the House licks

So w
Hatcha still pining

Dead by t
He street lig
Hts

Boy you s
Hining

Talk about you grinding