[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