[Produced by 9th Wonder]
[Verse 1: Vince Staples]
Take your time, when talkin' to a n***a I don't waste none
Knock you off your feet and then I flee before the jakes come
Sick of hearin' cases from these n***as who ain't face none
But I'ma be the n***a that they feelin' when the day come
Thirsty for the pay, young n***as led astray
Stray bullet hit my brother in his mothaf**in' 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 sh** that both the parents had did?
Ain't embarra**ed where I'm livin', we get merit for k**s
From a family of n***as that was veteran sk**ed
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 them funerals was usual, ain't sheddin' no tears
Knew the fallen had it better off than most of us did
Cause sh**, Heaven knows, Heaven's gates prolly 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
[Verse 2: Mac Miller]
I spit that prayer hand emoji, that sh** 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 sh** 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 the tile floor
My b**h hate me, always tell me I should smile more
Off them d** that hit you in your spinal cord
This the sh** I need to keep the climate warm
Wish I could get high, space migration
Pretend I can just fly to great vibrations
The magazines need a quote
Now I'm gone, sorry I don't even know
[Outro: Mac Miller]
And this pain, and this pain, and this pain, and this pain
Mixed up with this rain, this rain, this rain, this rain
[Verse 3: Jay Lav]
I'm pushing for the best, always prepping for the worst
They wanna see you down, they wanna see you even worse
So I'm in my room, writing up this verse
Words can cut deep, so I always keep some verbs
Always running from my problems, never know what's worse
Is this writers magic? or a witches curse
I'm coming out swing, I'm looking for a burst
A feeling so appealing, I'm looking while I'm steering
Your beauty is a blessing, your bodies interfering
100 on the highway in the night we're disappearing
Onto better things, I know we're sick of hearing