Vince Staples, Larry Fisherman - Outro (Stolen Youth) lyrics

I'm here to tell the world
I'm from Ramona park
Diving in the deep water like
I know the sharks
Climbing in the king's daughter
I deserved the crown
They weren't fucking with ya boy
But they heard me now
Me and white boy Mac came to take them back
Way back
Back when people used to learn from rap
I'm here to show you motherfuckers what
I learn from Pac Slimm
Couple rounds in the clip
Down for burning that
Beats I murder that, beef I murder that
He heard the shooter yell "NNer!"
Before he heard the mac
And even if that nigga didn't
Bet he know it's them
Black with a little bit of


Brown like a doberman
That 1911 hold 11, go and call the 9-11
He just send his soul to heaven
Bitches say the shows is heaven
Sitting in the front row
Turned a couple Poly High games
To the gun show
Turned a couple Wilson High gangs
To the track meet
You be in to rap beef 'cause
You ain't never have beef
Joey that's my brother
So I'm part of all of Fatts' beef
And you know my strap, keep talking
That's my black bitch

2-2-3 make a fat nigga back flip
One 16 wipe you niggas off the map quick
Never had to show a lot of
Effort with the rap shit
Going for the kill cause I
Never really had shit
Same old stereotype, got the stereo hype
Hope when I die that I'm buried like Mike
Eyes on that prize that
Ain't leavin' my sight
If you want that fire then
He leaving tonight to show
Two claps when I see my yaNNcs
Two straps been moved that
Across the interstate
Arizona homies call me Flagstaff shortie
Chrome Kel Tec nine and a big black 40
We be shooting up the parties
Like we got no sense
Ride around the city trippin
We ain't got no tints
Hood been my home, I ain't got no rent
We be chillin' on the pop like
We livin' on the pop never slipping
I ain't trying to see the prison like my pops
Never giving you a pass if
I consider you a Op
Don't consider you a threat if
You ain't sending niggas shots
Got some killas with me down to
Put a nigga in the dirt
Light the candles on the curb
Send a message to the cops
Snitch niggas in the feds sending
Letters to the cops so I never trust a soul
When they ask I'm never speaking
My Beretta Scott King strong and
Black as she could be
Team trying to gangrene like that old Max B
Old French Montana, macaroni with the cheese
Young Joe Montana throwing bullets
Through your defense they need Vince
You should put him on your team
If I die in these streets
Then consider me a martyr
Enemy goes five deep in the charger
Down to shoot though cause I got that jumper
Been on that block this my 19th summer
Momma playing Stevie Wonder in the
Kitchen while she cooking
Pigs knocking at the door to take
My dad to central booking
Reading books up in my room cause she
Won't let me go and play
Scared her youngest son will run around
And go pick up a K

Fuck that shit you represent I'm
Here to get these presidents
Wouldn't be the only king to come
Up where the peasants live
Pray to God I never do the
Shit that both my parents did
History repeats it'self
It's up to me to change it
Watch me burn the book of life and
Write the pages in my favor
On some King James shit
Call me Mr on some Rosewood Ving Rhames shit
Keep a pistol in the Gap fleece
We aim quick
Leave a nigga on the backstreets
Same old shit, you heard Stuck In My Ways
No the show don't stop
I could do it for days
If you disrespect my family we all gon' fight
Swinging like T Woods
Trying to earn my stripes
Yeah that uppercut will fuck him
Up so say goodnight