Vince Staples - Back Sellin' Crack lyrics
rate meI’m done beat the breaks of niggers
Shot the face of niggers
Pending case with the state, and I’m still out tripping
And all the feds take picture
Fucking up my image
Even momma bringing drama
I ain’t trust no bitches
See these hoes be out here
Switching their side
When it’s time for the killing I ride it
Right in my eye
Be ready to die
I risk felony time
For greater than mine
Who better than i?
Nobody alive
Nobody live the life that I did
Fighting to live since I was a kid
Playing in the yard with a 30-60
House look like a gun range
Room look like a gun store
Either y’all gonna know my name
And nigger dying young and poor
Either way don’t give a fuck
You gonna find me northbound
With this shit, I’m in this shit
Know I love them gun sounds
Seven’s crying, Max applaud
They taking shots, I had to call
You catch them at the shot gun
That’s Roddy White from 50 yards
Nobody shots, I’m hitting jaws
Trying to run, you’re Stephen Hawking
You see, I mean this shit I’m talking
You don’t want no problem
Slave to the rhythm
Shoot my master in his back
Two dope boys in the Cadillac strap
Wood grain dash
Windshield stained glass
Meeting down de ave’
Like we’re back selling crack
Killing for the Karma
But living for my momma
Trouble for they callers
Ain’t nothing what they offer
And they wonder why, niggers get shot?
And they wonder why, niggers get shot?
Where you at?
Where you from?
‘Cause it’s hot where I’m at
Anytime of the day
You get robbed, you get jumped
It’s a game that we play
To get paid
From the ones that
In 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
Getting trapped by my fuse
Too short
Ask God what do you want
He said I want your life
Well I ain’t live mine right
But if I do the the crime
And I do the time
I ain’t scared of shit
I was born to die
Extend the clip
Big 45 been quick the trip
Been lost my mind
When I die please don’t let mamma cry
‘Cause she know it had to be him nhot I
And I caught a slip
Get a gun
And go knock that nigger
Run up on him
No mask, no feelings
No room for that
They shoot at us
Then we shootin’ back
Burning shells till I burn in hell
And I’m cool with that
That Uzi packed
I don’t learn a lot in these 19 years
A lot of homies ain’t shed one tear
God decides what my curfew is
So till that day
Imma do my shit
I proved my shit
They know my name
Not proud of the outcome
Either have regrets and be out young
Don’t sleep
Slave to the rhythm
Shoot my master in his back
Two dope boys in the Cadillac strap
Wood grain dash
Windshield stained glass
Meeting down de ave’
Like we’re back selling crack
Killing for the Karma
But living for my momma
Trouble for they callers
Ain’t nothing what they offer
And they wonder why, niggers get shot?
And they wonder why, niggers get shot?
I took a blue pill when it 70’s with Sean
Homies from that love
Saw them niggers going
I got this cocaine
But my stove ain’t turning on
I got that knock-knock
Uuh, yeah you know
Running in the wheel for show
No airs in the wheel for sure
But a homey strapper it ain’t for sure
Trying to hit a lake
No aim for low
Get a weed and get smoking
Goes for even
God goes
Got toast here another drink
Shouldn’t been singing
That was ass sort of ain’t
Sunny LA
Well we never get it big
Sunny LA
Where the youngers don’t think
Sunny LA
Where they hear you scat
Word on the wall Big K
Taking you to parking space
That’s my seat
I ain’t hearing whatcha say
Back it at the end
But I bought 12
My man just said the word
I got the takes on the safe back
With the torres
I know we hit the school
But it’s better than jail
Thank God I was saved by the bell
Trying to slip pause
I ain’t trying to live it up
So I keep my face here
Right where I found them
Nigger my...
Fuck do a condom
Even when I’m rapping
Ain’t nobody sign them
I’m with the house
So watcha still pining
Get by the street lights
Boy you shining
Talk about you grinding
Yeah!
