Vince Staples – Sleep (2013) | Track profile | Dork

Vince Staples – Sleep (2013) | Track profile | Dork

Lyrics

Sleep

[Intro: Da$H]

Yeah

Soul

Nigga

[Verse 1: Da$H]

Catch me on a drunk night, throwin' up a dirt bike (Bike)

English dikes on the back and they screamin', "Fuck life" (Fuck it)

To be honest, only fuck twice (Uh)

My drug jacket got the thug stripes (Nigga)

I'm glad they hate me, they ain't love Christ or Mike Jordan either (Nope)

Dip my blunts in ether, chase the last name of Aretha

When they hear me through the speakers

Man, these niggas know I mean it (Know I mean it)

The mannerisms of a genius, models downin' semen

The flow is scenic, the ho is black, the car is European

Cream soda what we put the lean in

Fuck your team, your clique, whatever you bangin'

I come through, blunt lit, bucket low, nuts hangin'

Like, nigga, what? Nigga, yawk! Niggas know me

The fuckin' dollar, crossed to the dark side, so it's fuck Obi Kenobi

You active, motherfucker, then show me

I tell your fuckin' wife to blow me

Nigga, it's still fuck you (Still fuck you)

[Verse 2: Ab-Soul]

Yo, still searchin' for Easter pink on Easter Sunday

Black lip pastor Herb done lit the herb and passed it your way

Master with the nouns and verbs, you haven't heard the wordplay?

I'm the most def here, shouts to black Dante

The stakes is high, who'd like to climb up my gate?

Live from the last name of Kanye

I heard your whoop-de-whoop and blasé-blasé

So when I cut you off, consider Kendrick Lamar

You know it's all in the family tree

The helix of my DNA should read T-D-E, what can I say? (I don't know what to tell you?)

I left a acid tab for Da$h on his dashboard

I hope he don't crash tryna dash for it

Your bitch fuckin' like, like I paid cash for it

Motherfucker (Soul)

[Verse 3: Mac Miller]

Uh, it's young Fisherman sinkin' in Lake Michigan

Innocence, voice of an angel, so Minnie Riperton

Gettin' lit exquisite, bitch, live from the Wimbledon

Still sinnin' as Bill Clinton, that's ill pimpin'

She butt-naked swimmin', I'm payin' her no attention

Workaholic, got a TV show, I know you seen the crib

Nasty since a youngin', it's unsanitary birth

Watch this beat get buried in a hearse, yeah I kill myself

Mac hippy analog, rap midi, turn the cameras off

I made you snap, I'll slap your bandana off

Your bitch greet me like I'm Santa Claus

Mouth wide, I'm high as a satellite, see

I'm in ancient Greece, gettin' head from Aphrodite

Mac is mighty, got a bunch of whities actin' like me

I set the bar high, this a bizarre ride, word to Pharcyde

In plaid pants, hit a hole in one on the par five

Eyes closed, drinkin' whiskey, let the car drive

These hoes thirsty, see the dick and they large-eyed

[Verse 4: Vince Staples]

Never gave a dollar to the pastor

Hoes can't get inside my home without the password

My past worth was measured by those who got less then now

Safe to say you motherfuckers know you like my style

Paved the way for they newfound vision

Now they mad at a nigga, call me dad when you preachin', boy

Never one for trippin', find me full-speed sprintin'

While they yellin', "Coldchain"

Please tell me what it is and what it ain't

Niggas snifflin', catchin' feelings while I'm laughin' to the bank

Chasin' bitches that they'll probably never get, what a shame

Meanwhile I'll be sittin' in this critical acclaim

Walkin' drowsy off a plane, drinkin' water in the rain

With your daughter tryna garnish her brain for future reference

I'm some shit you'll never see in the game

And if I could I'd explain, but this right here's the end

Lyrics provided by LRCLIB

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