Centurion (feat. Vince Staples)

Oh, me? Yeah, yeah, yeah I'm just tryna say somethin' I, I, drop it off I feel like the Tom Sawyer for real niggas Looking for a problem, revolver under the Hilfiger No bluff needed, we will kill niggas So try me if you want, bruh, I promise I'm with all of that Late night shooters, got 'em thinking Johnny Carson back Trying to win this white man game with my heart intact All off a dollar and a dream that I really had Kind of hard to sleep when your thoughts is in the streets Norf Norf is the side where my family stay Big Baby Jesus, I can't wait Until the money coming in, spend it all on guns and rims I ain't nothing but a nigga, ain't no reason to pretend Kept the sticky in the Stussy pouch Ski mask, bloody 'Preme hoodie tossing doobies out the window Of the hoopty, night black as Paul Mooney At the movies but the moon was out Food was always optional Eating nothing but hard punches to that abdominal Closed fist chronicles, sold sniff, Momma knew Baggies laying 'round, peanut shells at a carnival Stomping clowns, welcome pussy niggas to the romper room Buckshot'll cover a whole torso like a parka do In a park at 2:00, plotting, trying to garner loot Split it with his big roll dog, call him Marmaduke Searching for a shard of truth and found, uh Couple bucks bought his cousins lunch Another Dutch, stiff collar on the button-up Hood, rich, wild, and 'bout to run amok Road to hell paved with cement, covered trussled drugs, toughen up Well, alright, okay If that's how you truly feel about it then Alright, okay If that's how you truly feel about it then Vinny Stape, they stupid, think the city safe Until that little bindi placed, head shots, red dot Block as hot as Denny plates, fed watch, fed watch Opinions only pity based, deep in the Civic with the Evilest niggas this side of the Mississippi All courtesy of Vincent from niggas who plot against Ear-L-double-S, hear shells from the Tec Hear in full-effect, eat a dick and cut a check, bitch Few niggas I'm on a first-name basis with Address me by the alias, that trunk weighted Like he 'bout to catch a case again Eighths louder than the voice of Satan That be plaguing him Bruh, I'm caking whether Hell or bad weather High water, I'm a sailor-type assailant for the paper Living like I met the maker twice Hit it 'til I'm faded right? Mami, take a hike or treat it like you fucking shaking dice, bitch Well, alright, okay If that's how you truly feel about it then Alright, okay If that's how you truly feel about it then