Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Vince Staples
Vince Staples
Vocals
Mac Miller
Mac Miller
Vocals
Patrick Douthit
Patrick Douthit
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Vince Staples
Vince Staples
Songwriter
Jorge Barreiro
Jorge Barreiro
Songwriter
Malcolm McCormick
Malcolm McCormick
Songwriter
Patrick Douthit
Patrick Douthit
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer
9th Wonder
9th Wonder
Producer
Josh Berg
Josh Berg
Recording Engineer
Eric Dan
Eric Dan
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Take your time, when talkin' to a nigga I don't waste nothin' Knock you off your feet, and then I flee before the Jakes come Sick of hearin' cases from these niggas who ain't face nothin' But I'ma be the nigga that they feelin' when the day come Thirsty for the pay, young niggas led astray Stray bullet hit my brother in his motherfuckin' face What's fate when a person don't deserve what he get? Shootin' reckless at the father, almost murdered the kid Or is it karma for the shit that both the parents had did? Ain't embarrassed, where I'm livin' we get merit for kills From a family of niggas that was veteran skilled Voted heartless 'cause my momma made me part of the guild Deals made, sellin' thrills paid the bills at the crib Drag him down by the river, he'll be missin' for years And 'em funerals was usual, ain't sheddin' no tears Knew the fallen had it better off than most of us did 'cause shit Heaven knows, Heaven's gates pro'ly closed And these hoes in a race for the gold We was raised on that fork in the road No food on our plate, just the meals that we stole Yeah Ooh-whoa-oh Ooh-whoa-oh-oh, yeah Yeah, uhm I spit that prayer hand emoji, that shit that injured Kobe The holiest of holy, Nick Nolte in some Oakley's That's a flex though, cover up the issues that I kept close Sober, I can't deal, I'm in the corner with my head low Runnin' from my shadow, never ending chase Ease the pain and the battle that's within me Sniff the same shit that got Whitney, the high heel depression My temple feel the metal comin' out the Smith & Wesson, bang Say a prayer, leave my brains on a tile floor My bitch hate me, always tell me I should smile more Off them drugs that hit you in your spinal cord This the shit I need to keep the climate warm Wish I could get high, space migration Pretend I could just fly to great vibrations The magazines need a quote When I'm gone, sorry, I don't leave a note, yo Whoa-oh-oh, yeah And this pain, and this pain And this pain, and this pain Mixed up with this rain, this rain, this rain, this rain Whoa-whoa-whoa-oh-oh, yeah Ooh-woah-oh, yeah Yeah, 9th Wonder
Writer(s): Vince Staples Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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