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Joy Crookes throws down with her new Vince Staples collaboration, 'Pass The Salt'
Joy Crookes returns after three years with a bass-heavy collaboration featuring Vince Staples, addressing personal drama through confrontational lyrics.
About This Track
"Outro" is a track by Vince Staples, from the album Stolen Youth, released 20th June 2013. Full lyrics are available below. Dork has published 1 article about Vince Staples.
About the Artist
Lyrics
[Verse 1] I'm here to tell the world I'm from Ramona Park Divin' in the deep water like I know the sharks Climbin' in the king daughter, I deserve the crown They weren't fuckin' with ya boy, but they heard me now Me and white boy Mac came to take 'em back Way back, back when people used to learn from rap I'm here to show you motherfuckers what I learned from Pac Slimm Couple rounds in the clip, down for burnin' that Beats, I murder that, beef, I murder that He heard the shooter yell "NNer" before he heard the MAC And even if that nigga didn't, bet he know it's them Black with a little bit of brown like a doberman That 1-9-11 hold eleven, go and call the 9-11s He just sent his soul to Heaven Bitches say the shows is heaven, sittin' in the front row Turned a couple Poly High games to the gun show Turned a couple Wilson High gangs to the track meet You be into rap beef 'cause you ain't never had beef Joey, that's my brother, so I'm part of all of Fatts' beef And you know my strap keep talkin', that's my black bitch [Verse 2] .223 make a fat nigga back flip One 16 wipe you niggas off the map quick Never had to show a lot of effort with the rap shit Goin' for the kill 'cause I never really had shit Same old stereotype, got the stereo hype Hope when I die that I'm buried like Mike Eyes on that prize, that ain't leavin' my sight If you want that fire, then he leavin' tonight to show Two claps when I see my yaNNcs Two straps, been moved that across the interstate Arizona homies call me Flagstaff Shortie Chrome Kel-Tec 9 and a big black 40 We be shootin' up the parties like we got no sense Ride around the city trippin', we ain't got no tints Hood been my home, I ain't got no rent We be chillin' on the pop like we livin' on the pop Never slippin', I ain't tryin' to see the prison like my Pops Never givin' you a pass if I consider you a opp Don't consider you a threat if you ain't sendin' niggas shots Got some killers with me down to put a nigga in the dirt Light the candles on the curb, send a message to the cops Snitch niggas in the feds sendin' letters to the cops So I never trust a soul, when they ask, I'm never speakin' My Beretta Scott King strong and black as she could be Team tryin' to gain green like the old Max B Old French Montana, macaroni with the cheese Young Joe Montana throwin' bullets through your defense They need Vince, you should put him on your team If I die in these streets, then consider me a martyr Enemy goes five-deep in the Charger Down to shoot though 'cause I got that jumper Been on that block, this my nineteenth summer Momma playin' Stevie Wonder in the kitchen while she cookin' Pigs knockin' at the door to take my dad to central bookin' Readin' books up in my room 'cause she won't let me go and play Scared her youngest son will run around and go pick up a K [Verse 3] Fuck that shit you represent, I'm here to get these presidents Wouldn't be the only king to come up where the peasants live Pray to God I never do the shit that both my parents did History repeat itself, it's up to me to change it Watch me burn the book of life and write the pages in my favor On some King James shit Call me Mr. On Some Rosewood Ving Rhames shit Keep a pistol in the Gap fleece We aim quick, leave a nigga on the backstreets Same old shit, you heard "Stuck In My Ways" No, the show don't stop, I could do it for days If you disrespect my family, we all gon' fight Swingin' like T Woods, tryin' to earn my stripes Yeah, that uppercut'll fuck him up, so say goodnight
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