Released: January 1, 2012
Featuring: Vince Staples
Songwriter: Vince Staples A$ton Matthews
Producer: Jay Curry
[Verse 1: A$ton Matthews]
Yeah, uh, got you going down shit's creek
6 feet, arms length of a pip squeak
Hitting witnesses this week
Stick your bitch, bet your mistresses miss me
This more like Rudy or N' Sync
You are ass, Lance Bass
Base heads in my basement
Shooting dice in a play pen, in some beige Tims
Trade my friends for some eggs and some bacon
Toast with some butter and Adios
El vita baby for you muthafuckin maricones
Quick to flip, and you know that bitch be down to smoke
Now you see me fucker, bitch now you don't
Shouldn't've spoke motherfucker, cause now you gone
Broke ass nigga with a mouth full of gold
With a young dumb nigga, 40 oz to the dome
You talk about it, but not 'bout it though
I'm somebody she oughta know, I'm oli oxen in all the hoes
I spread her legs and then off her clothes
[Verse 2: Vince Staples]
Pills to the green, licks to the lean
Weekend to the Weeknd I got what you need
That Glock with the beam send shots to your team
Leave your whole damn block gridlock, quarantine
Really out here trapping nigga, you just out her rapping
If I lift that lil larking bet these bitches quit that barking
It's evident, I'm harder than whoever got a problem
And we got them automatics for whoever got revolvers
I'ma Chris Mullen shooter nigga, headhunter hall of fame
Think I'm bluffing, fuck it, bet them grave diggers call yo' name
The way we make them choppers bang, you would think Nirvana came
To steal the show, nah nigga, we just here to steal your gold
Young mossberg give these bitches the business
I shoot him in his front yard head fly to the kitchen
Dead right, if the bread right the semi there like every night
Like give it here if not, cock back, head shot
[Hook]
Young dumb nigga with a trigger off safety
Shooting down gay teens, burning down Macy's
Young dumb nigga with a trigger off safety
Burning down Macy's, shooting down gay teens
Yeah, uh, got you going down shit's creek
6 feet, arms length of a pip squeak
Hitting witnesses this week
Stick your bitch, bet your mistresses miss me
This more like Rudy or N' Sync
You are ass, Lance Bass
Base heads in my basement
Shooting dice in a play pen, in some beige Tims
Trade my friends for some eggs and some bacon
Toast with some butter and Adios
El vita baby for you muthafuckin maricones
Quick to flip, and you know that bitch be down to smoke
Now you see me fucker, bitch now you don't
Shouldn't've spoke motherfucker, cause now you gone
Broke ass nigga with a mouth full of gold
With a young dumb nigga, 40 oz to the dome
You talk about it, but not 'bout it though
I'm somebody she oughta know, I'm oli oxen in all the hoes
I spread her legs and then off her clothes
[Verse 2: Vince Staples]
Pills to the green, licks to the lean
Weekend to the Weeknd I got what you need
That Glock with the beam send shots to your team
Leave your whole damn block gridlock, quarantine
Really out here trapping nigga, you just out her rapping
If I lift that lil larking bet these bitches quit that barking
It's evident, I'm harder than whoever got a problem
And we got them automatics for whoever got revolvers
I'ma Chris Mullen shooter nigga, headhunter hall of fame
Think I'm bluffing, fuck it, bet them grave diggers call yo' name
The way we make them choppers bang, you would think Nirvana came
To steal the show, nah nigga, we just here to steal your gold
Young mossberg give these bitches the business
I shoot him in his front yard head fly to the kitchen
Dead right, if the bread right the semi there like every night
Like give it here if not, cock back, head shot
[Hook]
Young dumb nigga with a trigger off safety
Shooting down gay teens, burning down Macy's
Young dumb nigga with a trigger off safety
Burning down Macy's, shooting down gay teens