Award Tour ft. Vince Staples Lyrics

I constantly get the feelin' that Satan watchin' me

Nice stroll on a quest for a soul, probably

But luckily I gave him mines a long time ago

Fuck you expect when child's momma and father gone

But truthfully I ain't got no life, a lifeline my brain's dead

Strobe lights gleam as I dance with the devil

Ski mask and a shovel, the Grim Reaper, dig deeper

Into my mind tryna figure where I'm comin' from

Hell's basement, my bloodshed on gray pavement

Tryna meet death I guess, but shit I hate waitin'

Not only do I hate God but I hate Satan

Such a hater, I despise how I hate hatred

It's kinda dumb I see, but school was never fun for me

So I brought a gun with me, got tired of them fuckin' with me

So if Christ got a problem he can come and get me

And I got a sword for his side if he think he slick

To tell the truth I blame him for the mood switches

Guns for your gods and a noose for the cute bitches

I see you looking at me

Your smile is more disgusting than you wantin' to fuck

But still it makes me happy

Because what else I got?

Everything that you deserve

My logic to fill my pockets, build a billion off of words

The fame is secondary, because Washington was first

I came, saw, and conquered, gave you all that I was worth

Ugh, yeah

What more could you ask for?

They gave up on me, I wish you would have told me that before

I gave you everything, what more could you ask for?

Except for all the worlds gold, this is my Award Tour

Because what else I got?

A nine millimeter, tech-nine loaded to the top

Got a couple plots in my head, I should give a shot

Hopefully they make me rich

Normality was never an option cause I hate the shit

I want the money, cars, clothes, and the girls

Still I get a sense that I don't belong in the world

So I fill a clip up and I point the shit straight at my dome

Fuck Heaven I just want to go home

Time is only you waitin' for the past

Put your hand in and what you get out of it's what you grab

No lax, equals racks with no breaks or hiatus

Give dick to bitches, middle fingers to the haters

And now they get excited just to say that you seen us

Get paid and get maids just because the convenience

Because I got us up, but I'll never have enough

White sluts to fuck, she told me to bring cuffs

If lawyers get laid off, then we can't sue

But it's known he sell his soul for a GT-2

That's death, head-shots they infrared beams

It's why we roll with K's in the van just like the A-Team

Don't stop, go forth, proceed

Stay high, you can find me in the nose-bleeds

And they know we don't play for no prize

We make moves, you stay stiff like MRI's

You see? that's what you get

Everything that you deserve

My logic to fill my pockets, build a billion off of words

The fame is secondary, because Washington was first

I came, saw, and conquered, gave you all that I was worth

Ugh, yeah

What more could you ask for?

69, 187 on the girl next door

I want nothing, but everything, that's what I do it for

That and all the worlds gold, this is my Award Tour

Because what else I got?

Besides a pocket full of nothing-ness

Scrapin' up a dollar for the bus that I just fuckin' missed

Don't wanna be the best, just put me in the discussion

Quit actin' like I'm not the best thing that you ever heard

I'm in it for the Awards for lack of better words

King size cupboard of whores I'm 'bout to put to work

Same ones from my childhood that I used to lurk

Now it's all good, because they see I'm fuckin' iced out