Humble - Vince Staples

Humble - Vince Staples

Альбом
Stolen Youth
Год
2014
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
177640

Nedan finns texten till låten Humble , artist - Vince Staples med översättning

Låttexten " Humble "

Originaltext med översättning

Humble

Vince Staples

Homie, I ain’t humble, I deserve this shit

I’m from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped

So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

White high school’s wasn’t laughing at the black jokes

Daddy had us contact high off of crack smoke

Had to get it cracking with the 7 cause the Mac broke

Wrist fucked up, couldn’t make it to practice

Had the money in the couch and the K’s by the mattress

Chasing senior bitches down cause we was hanging with Pac then

Sidekick thefts, if he pressed him we packed him

Ski masking, but niggas wasn’t going to Aspen

Mayfair freshman class, but I skipped them all

But Miss Brown cause that was my nigga

Ask me what had mattered more, the school or the set?

She can tell by the truancy I’m true to the shit

Couple months I was up out of there

Mama kicked me out of the house, but shit I didn’t care

Hitting licks, it came to a drought, so we was killing kids all for the buck

15, sitting shotgun, ready to dump

Homie, I ain’t humble, I deserve this shit

I’m from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped

So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

Homie, I ain’t humble, I deserve this shit

I’m from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped

So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

I swear I’m busy every time my mama call my phone

No time for stressing, she can leave a message at the tone

I apologize for breaking up your happy home

And looking like my daddy, all them arguments was overblown

Girl, I just want you happy, that’s the reason why I write these songs

Cause I can give a fuck 'bout where I end up when it’s said and done

Riding down 7 Street, looking for your second son

Found him on Artesia with a Yankee hat and loaded gun

But you ain’t know the difference, coming home late

Seen Tyson in the kitchen trying to make his own plate

But you love my homies like you love your only son that walk and talk

Think that was the reason you afraid to see me risk it all

But your father told me no reward if it’s no risk involved

And your father raised me, made me crazy, don’t take shit at all

I know you miss him cause I miss him more than I can quite recall

Knew he would be happy as the day my mama had me, see

Homie, I ain’t humble, I deserve this shit

I’m from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped

So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

Homie, I ain’t humble, I deserve this shit

I’m from the side of the curb where the birds get flipped

So fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you and fuck you

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