Lyrics Dank - Speak, Vince Staples

Dank

I’m Trapping with my weapon
Till they trap me in that fucking cell
Rap for sale, Drugs for sale
Everything is up for sale
Trying to bring my gun to hell, Hallelujah
Load the Ruger, Cock the Ruger
Aim it at your Mama, (Shoot Her) Fucking Loser
Pawn Shop, Bayonets, Revolvers
And some tape cassettes
Tax Man, Axe Man
We still out here collecting debt
Empty all your pockets
Prices right they need to pay up
Accessory to hitting licks, Alley Oops and layup
They make you famous
Then say the money change ya
But of course that money change us niggas
Ever seen a range my nigga
Hummer in the parking lot, you see me coming call the cops
Im Robert Horry corner shot
Rockets Jersey Camouflage
No limit tank, with them gold spinning things
Bitch it pours, when it rains
Whores be high as Brontosaurus twat
Took a couple grand in molly morph the glocc
Laser beam Shorty, Ed Hardy Print Ferrari
Feel the tire shop
Fuck whatever band you in
My bullet shells gargantuan
Got Cantonese and mandarins
Chinese hoes for laundering
Endless stacks of laundromats
My mail order brides are back
Redbones, Green Cards, Crystal Meth, and Value Packs
Chrome illusion spinners
Lug boots and a new jag
Yokohama tires for diamond studded doo-rag
Papa’s brand new bag, got the bones of Jimmy Hoffa
Super fly like Jimmy Snuka
With my jungle print chopper
You say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothing
We say you a wanksta, and you need to stop frontin'
Go to the dealership, and you never cop nothing
You been hustling a long time, and you ain’t got nothing
Damn homie
Damn homie
Damn homie