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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
"Shots" is a track by Vince Staples, from the album Shyne Coldchain II, released 13th March 2014. Full lyrics are available below. Dork has published 1 article about Vince Staples.
About the Artist
Lyrics
[Produced by No I.D.] [Verse 1] Niggas die off of Poppy street, bet my mama vouch They drive by, we don't run inside, bitch, we shoot it out On my grind, Benz color of the crimes I've been committing I've been fighting all my life, and I ain't stopping 'til it's finished Rapid firepower sound just like a helicopter engine Hell ain't threatening to niggas who ain't never had religion In this field, you Phillis Wheatleys ain't gon' never catch me slippin' Serve that three-piece, now we sneaky, tell the medic to come and get him [Hook] Yeah, my niggas built for war, my niggas built for war They sending threats, we sending shots They sending threats, we sending shots [Verse 2] Fuck the pigs alive and dead, 'cause they ain't never had my back They see you black 'fore you a man, and you a nigga 'fore you that And that, you'll never understand if you done seen it secondhand You ain't ready for that war then, please, don't step across them tracks Rent money low and pressure high, no sellin O's, just selling dimes These California sunny skies done looked down on me all of my life Is you really 'bout what you write? Know they waitin' on my demise And I been waiting, too, my patience through, blue paisley noose in the sky [Hook] Yeah, my niggas built for war, my niggas built for war They sending threats, we sending shots They sending threats, we sending shots [Verse 3] Martin Luther had a dream, I thought Tookie dream was better Bunchy Carter had a plan, but they shot him 'fore he led us To that ghetto promised land, it ain't no hope for the darker man Just the folks who you bump for the Arm & Hammer The nigga prolly gone die when his mama had em' That pissy mattress fit three or four, taking shit when we leave the store Ain't a shoulder to lean up on, chauffeur in the back, the police been called Same ol' gauge, same ol' trigger, same ol' cage, brand-new nigga Front-page when you 'kill em, mothafucka, pay attention [Hook] Yeah, my niggas built for war, my niggas built for war They sending threats, we sending shots They sending threats, we sending shots [Outro] Niggas die off of Poppy street, bet my mama vouch They drive by, we don't run inside, bitch, we shoot it out
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