[Verse 1: Vince Staples]
I done beat the brakes 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 switchin' they side
When its time for the killin', I ride
Look right in my eyes, been ready to die
Risk felony time for threatenin' mine, who better than I? Nobody alive
Nobody live the life that I did, fightin' to live since I was kid
Playin' in the yard with a 30-06
House look like a gun range, room look like a gun store
Either y'all gon' know my name, or niggas dyin' 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 takin' shots, I had to call
You'll catch 'em out the shotgun, that's Roddy White from fifty yards
No body shots, I'm hittin' jaws
Try to run, you Stephen Hawking
You see I mean this shit I'm talkin', you don't want no problem
[Chorus: Vince Staples]
Slave to the rhythm, shoot my master in his back (Back)
Two dope boys, in the Cadillac strapped (Strapped)
Wood grain dash, windshield stained glass (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 nothin' what they offer, off 'em
And they wonder why niggas get shot
And they wonder why niggas get 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 or get jumped
It’s a game that we play to get paid
For the wants and the needs of the young
Snakes slide through the grass
Blades slide in the back of the used and abused
Try to walk in my shoes, get tripped by my fuse, too short
Ask God, "What do you want?", he said, "I want your life"
Well, I ain't live mines right
But if I do the crime, then I do the time
I ain't scared of shit, I was born to die
Extended clip, big .45, been quick to trip
And been lost my mind, when I die, please don't let mama cry
'Cause she know, 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 'til I burn in hell
And I'm cool with that, that Uzi packed
I done learned a lot in these nineteen years
Lotta homies ain't shed one tear
God decide when my curfew is
So 'til the day, I'ma 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
[Chorus: Vince Staples & ScHoolboy Q]
Slave to the rhythm, shoot my master in his back (Back)
Two dope boys, in the Cadillac strapped (Strapped)
Wood grain dash, windshield stained glass (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 nothin' what they offer, off 'em
And they wonder why niggas get shot (Uh, yeah)
And they wonder why niggas get shot (Uh, yo, Figg)
[Verse 3: ScHoolboy Q]
I took the blue pill and its evidence was shown
Homies from elementary, some them niggas gone
I got this cocaine, but my stove ain't turnin' on
I got that knock-knock (Ooh), yeah, you know
Ridin' in the whip, for sure, no L's in the whip, for sure
All the homies strapped, but it ain't for show
Tryna hit a lick, no envelope
Nigga, weed ain't the only thing get smoked
Cuz got ghost 'fore he even got ghost
Cuz got toast and he ain't old enough to drink
Shouldn't been singin', now his ass Murder Inc
Sunny LA, where we never need a mink
Sunny LA, where the youngins don't think
Sunny LA, where the Heat get sprayed
And every other word on the wall get K'ed
All the homies hangin' in your parkin' space
This my set, I ain't hearin' what ya say
Back then, had to be in by 10, but out by 12
Mom made it safe to work, I got the text on the cell
Back with the Locs all raisin' hell, found out the homie in a cell
I know he hated school, but it's better than jail
Gotta thank God I was saved by the bell
Tryna spit bars, I ain't tryin' to live behind 'em
So I keep my face here, right when I find them
Nigga, my rawness fuck through a condom
Ready when I'm rappin', no wonder why they signed him
Done with the house licks, so what ya still pinin'
Dead by the street lights, boy, you shinin', uh (Biatch)
[Outro: ScHoolboy Q]
Talk about you grindin'
Figg Side, yeah