[Hook: Vince Staples]
How it feel to be a black man
With your fists in the air tryna fight for your rights
How it feel to be a nigga
With your finger on the trigger, put a price on his life
How it feel to be a broke boy
Ain't a thing in the bank and a stain on his Nikes
And how it feel to be richer
When every motherfucker tryna get a dime, open up your mind

[Verse 1: Vince Staples]
Fuckin' raw like a lover
Shootin' out the car like a buster
Same old G like my father and my mother
Sherm sticks burn like perms, shit
She used to swoop me in her Granny bucket
We was fuckin', she was busting
Asking why I'm bustin'?
Niggas thugging "Why you never go to class or nothin'?"
I don't need it, "Why your daddy acting like you tweakin'?"
Cause he fiendin', why you asking all these fuckin' questions?
Lie impressions during adolescence
In the pen, Crip and Blood just a point of reference
But I'm still saying cuh like we killing something
Dreamed of killing something then I did it, can't forget it
Calling women bitches got me treating mama different
Intermissions, rhyming in my mama's kitchen
I'm ain't trippin, hell is waiting, let the karma kick in
But I'm just tryna kick it, baby slow it down
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