Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Get The Fuck Off My Dick, artist - Vince Staples. Date of issue: 08.03.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Get The Fuck Off My Dick |
| Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick |
| Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my bitch |
| Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib |
| Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick |
| Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick |
| 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 bitch |
| Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick |
| 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 fucking? |
| 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) |
| Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick |
| Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my bitch |
| Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib |
| Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick |
| Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick |
| 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 bitch |
| Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick |
| 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, bitch, don’t act like you don’t know my name |
| Don’t record me man, bitch, 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 fuck with fame, you don’t see me in no fucking chains |
| Ain’t no fucking slave, Def Jam ain’t gon' put me on no pay |
| This the sound I made, won’t nobody knock me off my wave |
| I’m the god in this, fuck up off my dick |
| Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick |
| Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my bitch |
| Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib |
| Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick |
| Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick |
| 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 bitch |
| Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick |