Die Rich

[Verse 1: Vince Staples]

Lights dimming, niggas living off the thought of killing

Black out, only shine as the revolver hitting

Can't bring the homies around, they start to plot on niggas

And then I gotta fix it, Mr. Mechanic

That automatic is nothing pretty, it take the smile off niggas

Let em run a couple miles, I'll hit 'em

If not, I bet his grandma get 'em, it's just a true story

Them shells sit like two stories, I aim well

I look at all your hate mail as fan mail

Writing shit down, well-knowing that you wouldn't say it

Why you go and buy a chopper if you couldn't spray it

Lil niggas breaking arms, tryna play Rambo

Give 'em what they signed for and never what they planned for

Aiming out the backdoor, cutthroat, niggas know it

[?] Anaheim, Long Beach, hammer time

North to the East, get down, nigga stand in line