Back Sellin' Crack

[Verse 1: Vince Staples] I done beat the breaks 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 switching their sides When its time for the killin' i ride Look right in my eyes, been ready to die, risk felony time for threatening mine Better than I, nobody alive Nobody live the life that i did Fighting to live since I was kid Playing in the yard with a 30-06 House look like a gun range Room look like a gun store Either you're gonna know my name, or niggas dying 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 taking shots, I had to call You catch 'em out the shot gun, that's Roddy White from 50 yards No body shots, I'm hitting jaws Tryna run you Stephen Hawking You see I mean this shit I'm talking You don't want no problem [Hook] Slave to the rhythm, shoot my master in his back Two dope boys, in the Cadillac strapped Wood grain dash, 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 nothing what they offer Off 'em, and they wonder why niggas get shot And they wonder why niggas 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 you get jumped It’s a game we play, to get paid For the wants to the needs to the young Snakes slide through the grass Blades slide in the back, of the used and abused Tryna walk in my shoes Get tripped by my fuse, too short Ask God what you want, he said I want your life Well I ain't live mine right But if I do the crime I do the time I ain't scared of shit, I was born to die Extended clip, big .45 been quick to trip Been lost my mind When I die, please don't let mama cry Cause she know it 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 till I burn in hell And I'm cool with that, that uzi packed I done learned a lot in these 19 years Lot homies ain't shed one tear God decide what my curfew is So till that day, I'mma 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 [Hook] [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 turning on I got tHat knock-knock Uuh, yeaH you know Riding in tHe wHip for sure No Ls 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 singing Now His ass Murder Inc Sunny LA, wHere we never need a mink Sunny LA, wHere tHe youngers don't tHink Sunny LA, wHere tHe Heat get sprayed And every otHer word on tHe wall get K'ed All the Homies taking you to parking space THis my set, I ain't Hearing wHatcha say Back tHen Had to be in by 10 But out by 12 My man just said tHe word I got tHe text on tHe cell Back witH tHe Locs raising Hell Found out tHe Homie in a cell I know we Hated school But it's better tHan jail Gotta tHank God I was saved by tHe bell Tryna spit bars I ain't trying to live beHind 'em So I keep my face Here Right wHere I found tHem Nigga my rawness Fuck tHrough a condom Ready wHen I'm rapping No wonder wHy tHey signed Him I'm witH the House So wHatcha still pining Dead by tHe street ligHts Boy you sHining Talk about you grinding