Rain (feat. Vince Staples)

(Ching, ching, ching, ching

Ching, ching, ching, ching)

Take your time

When talkin' to a ****, I don't waste none

Knock you off your feet and then I flee before the jakes come

Sick of hearin' cases from these **** who ain't face none (Ching)

But I'ma be the **** that they feelin' when the day come

Thirsty for the pay, young **** led astray

Stray bullet hit my brother in his muhfuckin' face

What's fate when a person don't deserve what he get?

(Ching) Shootin' reckless at the father, almost murdered the kid

Or is it karma for the shit that both the parents had did?

Ain't embarrassed where I'm livin', we get merit for kills

From a family of **** that was veteran skilled

(Ching) Voted heartless 'cause my momma made me part of the guild

Deals made, sellin' thrills, paid the bills at the crib

Drag him down by the river, he'll be missin' for years

And them funerals was usual, ain't sheddin' no tears

(Ching) Knew the fallen had it better off than most of us did

'Cause shit, Heaven knows Heaven's gates probably closed (Closed, closed, closed)

And these hoes in a race for the gold (Gold, gold, gold)

We was raised on that fork in the road

(Ching) No food on our plate, just the meals that we stole (Stole, stole, stole)

Yeah, ooh-whoa-oh-oh

Oh-whoa-oh-oh-oh

Yeah, yeah, yeah (Ching, ching, ching, ching)

Yeah, um

I spit that prayer hand emoji

That shit that injured Kobe

The holiest of holy, Nick Nolte in some Oakleys

That's a flex though, cover up the issues that I kept close

(Ching) Sober I can't deal, I'm in the corner with my head low

Runnin' from my shadow, never-ending chase

Ease the pain and the battle that's within me

Sniff the same shit that got Whitney the high heel depression

(Ching) My temple feel the metal comin' out the Smith & Wesson, bang

Say a prayer, leave my brains on the tile floor

My bitch hate me, always tell me I should smile more

Off them drugs that hit you in your spinal cord (Ching)

This the shit, I need to keep the climate warm

Wish I could get high, space migration

Pretend I can just fly to great vibrations

The magazines need a quote

(Ching) Now I'm gone

Sorry, I don't even know, yo

Whoa-oh-oh-oh, yeah

And this pain, and this pain

And this pain, and this pain (Ching)

Mixed up with this rain, this rain

This rain, this rain

Whoa-whoa-whoa-oh-oh

Yeah, oh-whoa-oh-oh, yeah (Ching)

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh

Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh

Yeah (Ching)

9th Wonder