- Lyrics
- Album list
Vince Staples
-
Sleep
feat. Ab-Soul, Da$h & Mac Miller
[Verse 1:Da$h] Catch me on a trunk night, throwin' up a dirt bike English dikes on the back and they screamin', 'Fuck life!' To be honest, only fuck twice My drug jacket got the thug stripes I'm glad they hate me, they ain't love Christ or Mike Jordan either 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 The mannerisms of a genius, models down to seen it The flow is scenic The ho is black, the car is European Cream soda when 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 on my gate Live from the last name of Kanye I heard your whoop de whoop and blase blases 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 left a acid tab for Da$h on his dashboard I hope he don't crash tryin' to dash for it Your bitch fuckin' like, like I paid cash for it Motherfucker, Soul!
[Verse 3: Mac Miller] 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' in some sanitary 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 Clause 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 5 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 new found 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' [?] Please tell me what it is and what it ain't Niggas sniffelin', 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 tryin' to 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
-
|