Give Me a Reason - BOLDY JAMES, Vince Staples

They say its never rains in Southern California

But when you from a state where it’s always snowin'

You tend to not believe the things that people tell you

Shit that I done seen please believe they gon' fail you

In your time of dire needs street dreams they gon' sell you

Take you to a place where can’t nobody gon' help you

Or run to your rescue

I give respect where it’s due

You, you only gonna do what I let you

Nigga don’t let me catch you

With this Drew Bledsoe

And I look at you

Reaching for a gun you can’t get to

Beat you to the stash

It don’t matter what he grab when I flash

You can have drum on your pistol

Or a pack of machines stuffed full of SCUD missiles

With extended magazines niggas gon' get they issue

By any means, shit, we more than official

Put you out of your misery

Have a morgue and it

Who do you believe in?

(Me or them?)

Cause looks can be deceiving (So think again)

And I done been deceived

So it’s a lot of things that don’t sit right with me

So be easy (cool my dude)

Who do you believe in?

(Me or them?)

Cause looks can be deceiving (When you me)

And by the looks of things this shit ain’t what it seems nigga

Just give me a reason

Bullets holes in Momma whip

7 chrome in my Momma couch

Watchin' the way I’m walking before they run in my Momma House

Baby bro with the problems, I promise he’ll never talk it out

Grammar school I draw on the lines, was born to chalk them out

5−0's from the G-Unit in the raid van, but I seen through it

Got a deuce 5 and the skate highs, that was 10th grade back in 09'

Got a .45 soon as Nitty died, on the North side banging 65

I don’t give passes, back-back and shit-bag I’m shit drastic

Piss-poor so I skip classes, still got on them Jays though

No problem nigga, I pop a nigga to get the shit that he paid for

Brown bandana sittin' on my face, I’m a Yannc ho

Got a black bitch from Bompton down to spank hoes

Never hit the court room, stayin' with that Drake flow

Trying to get that Drake dough, livin' where he started at

Eight ain’t got no hammer just blam 'em ain’t gotta cock it back

Boyie

After the first time it’s pretty much a piece of cake

So if you ain’t 'bout this life you probably can’t relate to it

If you were silver spoon fed back in '88

I had to eat with my hands out of paper plates

Made my great escape

Satan’s greatest trick was convincing the world that he didn’t exist

So meet the man out the myth, the devil in the flesh

Hell block, drugs zone seven six Detroit Michigan

We the new Bangladesh, the source and the fear

I need a new weigh connect (trey six)

To give em to me for the two way

But of course that depends on if you make it back

?

have you ever perhaps been in a trap so hot you couldn’t relax?

Sweatin' bullets, hunnit shots in a TEC

Gotta crook in my neck and it ain’t no lookin' back