vince staples - get the fuck off my dick lyrics
[chorus]
get the f-ck off now, get the f-ck off my d-ck
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my b-tch
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib
avant-garde with this sh-t, get your jaws off my d-ck
get the f-ck off now, get the f-ck off my d-ck
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my b-tch
avant-garde with this sh-t, get your jaws off my d-ck
[verse 1]
yeah, i ain’t taking no more calls, might think ’bout calling it quits
press is trying to block my blessings, no more talking to vince
npr and xxl, man, i can’t tell which is which
missed the mark, i think my label need a marketing switch
hold up, switch the flow up, i won’t roll for nothing
rappers ho up, then they blow up, guess who do the f-cking?
vma and grammy snubbing, not walking through no clubs
homie you can keep your money, it don’t do nothing for me
heard they looking for me yeah, you’re a dummy yeah
have somebody find your body parts, run and run it, yeah
ay bay-bay, ain’t for play, sear the steaks, steal the wraith
(and them wraiths is ugly, by the way
we see you got money to spend, but, nonetheless)
[chorus]
get the f-ck off now, get the f-ck off my d-ck
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my b-tch
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib
avant-garde with this sh-t, get your jaws off my d-ck
get the f-ck off now, get the f-ck off my d-ck
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my b-tch
avant-garde with this sh-t, get your jaws off my d-ck
[verse 2]
i’m from ramona, no school diploma
we caught him slipping, he in a coma
you got two choices, lose your life or your persona
i still hear voices from them nights i hit them corners
walked through the m-o-m-a, just did the feature, hit the scene
and blew the quota, i might do toshiyuki kita for the sofa
might save my nike check and spend my coca-cola
don’t count my packets, pocket rocket leave you tore up
time to glow up, from the floor up how i came
you don’t know my pain, b-tch, don’t act like you don’t know my name
don’t record me man, b-tch, you see me trying to board this plane
don’t you touch my frame, still the one who bust you in your brain
i don’t f-ck with fame, you don’t see me in no f-cking chains
ain’t no f-cking slave, def jam ain’t gon’ put me on no pay
this the sound i made, won’t n-body knock me off my wave
i’m the god in this, f-ck up off my d-ck
[chorus]
get the f-ck off now, get the f-ck off my d-ck
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my b-tch
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib
avant-garde with this sh-t, get your jaws off my d-ck
get the f-ck off now, get the f-ck off my d-ck
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib
hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my b-tch
avant-garde with this sh-t, get your jaws off my d-ck
vince staples addresses his grammy snubs & gofundme effort on “get the f-ck off my d-ck”
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