Vince Staples & Larry Fisherman - Intro
[Verse: Vince Staples]
Live from Delusion
Die on the street or reside in the ruins
Run and hide from police, throw the 9 in the sewer
Twenty-five is the least of the time that you doin'
Do or die, stayin' true to the lies on the stand
Right hand on the word of a god and forget
All the wrongs that you did tryna live by your means
Breakin' news, 10 p.m., see your friends on the screen
And these bitches wanna talk about some mo'fuckin' rap
Bullet holes in the home where my lil' brother at
Pigs parked on the street, so we can't shoot back
Spend a week where I sleep, most can't do that
Might look half neat 'til the nightfall come
First the Goodyear screech, then you hear that drum
Fuck 911, police don't come
Had Jabari on the streets 'til the sun came up
Momma's son raised up in the midst of a feud
I'm from genocide where you die for your residence
Die for the presidents I chase who reached the same fate
So I never get to thrive in the relishment
Might seem jaded but even Satan was heaven-sent
Could've been a bum, broke, sleepin' by the 710
Seventeen, dropped out, knew I had to make a way
Couldn't have my granny broke 'fore she see the pearly gates
Hope she ain't judged for me
Only person livin' ever showed love to me
Dad did time 'cause he sold drugs for me
I could never judge a man tryna better off his fam
Shoot a fucker where he stand, gotta take you to your maker
'Til I'm buried in the grass and the candle light the pavement
I'ma do it to the best of my abilities, the fear in me is gone
You can hear it in the song while you listenin'
[Outro: Delusional Thomas]
Vince Staples and Larry Fisherman
Present
Tales of the Stolen Youth
We appreciate
Live from Delusion
Die on the street or reside in the ruins
Run and hide from police, throw the 9 in the sewer
Twenty-five is the least of the time that you doin'
Do or die, stayin' true to the lies on the stand
Right hand on the word of a god and forget
All the wrongs that you did tryna live by your means
Breakin' news, 10 p.m., see your friends on the screen
And these bitches wanna talk about some mo'fuckin' rap
Bullet holes in the home where my lil' brother at
Pigs parked on the street, so we can't shoot back
Spend a week where I sleep, most can't do that
Might look half neat 'til the nightfall come
First the Goodyear screech, then you hear that drum
Fuck 911, police don't come
Had Jabari on the streets 'til the sun came up
Momma's son raised up in the midst of a feud
I'm from genocide where you die for your residence
Die for the presidents I chase who reached the same fate
So I never get to thrive in the relishment
Might seem jaded but even Satan was heaven-sent
Could've been a bum, broke, sleepin' by the 710
Seventeen, dropped out, knew I had to make a way
Couldn't have my granny broke 'fore she see the pearly gates
Hope she ain't judged for me
Only person livin' ever showed love to me
Dad did time 'cause he sold drugs for me
I could never judge a man tryna better off his fam
Shoot a fucker where he stand, gotta take you to your maker
'Til I'm buried in the grass and the candle light the pavement
I'ma do it to the best of my abilities, the fear in me is gone
You can hear it in the song while you listenin'
[Outro: Delusional Thomas]
Vince Staples and Larry Fisherman
Present
Tales of the Stolen Youth
We appreciate
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