Vince Staples - Get The f** Off My Dick lyrics

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Vince Staples - Get The f** Off My Dick lyrics

[Chorus] Get the f** off now, get the f** off my dick Hard to tell which one more perfect, man my art or my b**h Hard to tell which one more perfect, man my car or my crib Avant-garde with this sh**, get your jaws off my dick Get the f** off now, get the f** 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 b**h Avant-garde with this sh**, get your jaws off my dick [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 Mr. 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**ing? 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'se a dummy yeah Have somebody find your body parts, run and run it yeah Ay bay bay, ain't for play Steal the steaks, steal the Wraith (And them Wraiths is ugly by the way, we see you got money to spend but none the less) [Chorus] Get the f** off now, get the f** off my dick Hard to tell which one more perfect, man my art or my b**h Hard to tell which one more perfect, man my car or my crib Avant-garde with this sh**, get your jaws off my dick Get the f** off now, get the f** 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 b**h Avant-garde with this sh**, get your jaws off my dick [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 MoMA Just did the feature, hit the scene, and blew the quota I might call Toshiyuki Kita for the sofa Might save my Nike check and spend my Coca-Cola Don't count my packets, pocket rocket then you tow up Time to glow up from the flow up how I came You don't know my pain, b**h don't act like you don't know my name Don't record me man, b**h you see me trying to board this plane Don't you touch my frame, still the one who bust you in the brain I don't f** with fame, you don't see me in no f**ing chains Ain't no f**ing slave, Def Jam make 'em put me on no pay This the sound I made, won't nobody knock me off my wave I'm the god in this, f** up off my dick [Chorus] Get the f** off now, get the f** off my dick Hard to tell which one more perfect, man my art or my b**h Hard to tell which one more perfect, man my car or my crib Avant-garde with this sh**, get your jaws off my dick Get the f** off now, get the f** 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 b**h Avant-garde with this sh**, get your jaws off my dick