Wool (feat. Vince Staples)

Soon as I catch the vibe, tell 'em to fetch the hearse

Shorty, I'm pressing lines, lifting the Lauren shirt

Tell her to bless the girth if she with it

I'm in that kitchen, wrist water whipping work

****, I don't do that, **** get blue blacked and blown away

Wessons making Mexicans wetbacks like orale

Okay, I'm on to something

Mama should have told you it'd be days like this

This just a tale from the crypt

I'm on my séance shit, I'm tryna make a million dollars

Keep it hood while crossing over on some AI shit

I need a foreign baby mama to match a **** model whip

Ramona Park made from scratch

A lot of lotto picks lost inside this game we call rap

I be the underdog

Bullet hit his forehead, it exit out his underarm

Ain't nobody bigger than my hood, my ****, fuck a boss

Baby mama killer, you offended and I fuck her raw

Stretchy doing federal time for busting at the law

And he gon' be a neighbor of mine, you played me for a pawn

Shorty, I be swimming with sharks, your posse full of prawns

Pistol whip his body apart, now he afraid of dark alley ways

**** better listen when the pastor say

It's golf on that bitch, it's golf on that ball cap

I guzzle the tall boy, Jehovah ain't call back

And y'all still debating over Earl's music

Troops got the group nationwide moving merch units crazy

Peanut butter to paisley, walking down the street

In the different color McGrady's, that first grader was me

Now my fist full of spliffs and old baker receipts

Bitches grip the stick and jerky like cold shanks of the beef, dry

I'm taking purses like they chances in the evening

Pick your pants up, boy, you dancing with a demon

On my mama I been limiting my features

Filling swishers up with reefer

Bitch, it's difficult to beat 'em, like a soft dick

Golf clique deep and we don't hit the streets passive

That **** Sweaty got the gas and

Shreddy K brought the matches

Pitch a body in the water like a Lipton tea bag is

Switch to a different fucking whip to let them piggies speed past 'em

It's the rats tryna get the cheese

What it do?

Rap like I'm mincing meat, call me Lou

If I'm on a track, ****, skip to me

**** wanna fade me, bitches feel some type of way for me

Fifties in my pocket, falling out like fucking baby teeth

Vince be with the Rocket, he gon' pop it when it's danger 'round

Finger tips to tapers now, salute us when you face us

Give a fuck 'bout all the moves, all those loser **** making now