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Rubbin' Off The Paint Video (MV)






Vince Staples - Rubbin' Off The Paint Lyrics
Official




They be like stupid, where you been at?
We ain't seen you in weeks
Yeah, I been tryna catch a body off of John and em' streets
They went and killed my lil' homie so I'm back on the east
Catch him on Anaheim and stash his mind in back of the seat
They call me stupid 'cause I shoot it, I don't think I don't blink
I been wit' it since Xzibit used to P-I-M-P
You ain't down to keep it silent, you ain't down to catch a body
Boy, I hopped up off the porch banging norf illuminati
When I hop up out the four-door, don't you touch my body
This is undercover brother I am not in no Givenchy
Know you know it but I gotta say it baby, I'm from Comp'
If you hold it then you gotta spray it, baby don't be sloppy
If I catch you with your four hoe, we killin' everybody
Kill your pappy, kill your mommy, kill your second-cousin Connie
And my crime be stomp and fade
Boosie in the trunk with face
But if they interroga-ting, I don't know nobody
I ain't with the business
This is just an image
I ain't hurt nobody
I don't know who did it
Buster sending jade face harboring the snitches
Enemies stalking me harder than the sitches
Ended up a martyr on what started as a mission
Shot him where he used to hold his daughter in his pictures
Now his momma talkin' 'bout
"Somebody know who did it, my baby ain't deserve it"
She crying at the service
In the streets in triple C's and stealing jeans from mervyns
Trigger squeezers, split the scene
I iced them with the Gervin
Finger roll, we seen them toll
He said it ain't on purpose
Now we up in medical they askin' why he said it cold
Better know I never change
Runnin' with these yanks
Poppy block
Down the 65th, down the 68th
Want a shot, you will never get
But we came to play
And free Killer Cash from the A
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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They be like stupid, where you been at?
We ain't seen you in weeks
Yeah, I been tryna catch a body off of John and em' streets
They went and killed my lil' homie so I'm back on the east
Catch him on Anaheim and stash his mind in back of the seat
They call me stupid 'cause I shoot it, I don't think I don't blink
I been wit' it since Xzibit used to P-I-M-P
You ain't down to keep it silent, you ain't down to catch a body
Boy, I hopped up off the porch banging norf illuminati
When I hop up out the four-door, don't you touch my body
This is undercover brother I am not in no Givenchy
Know you know it but I gotta say it baby, I'm from Comp'
If you hold it then you gotta spray it, baby don't be sloppy
If I catch you with your four hoe, we killin' everybody
Kill your pappy, kill your mommy, kill your second-cousin Connie
And my crime be stomp and fade
Boosie in the trunk with face
But if they interroga-ting, I don't know nobody
I ain't with the business
This is just an image
I ain't hurt nobody
I don't know who did it
Buster sending jade face harboring the snitches
Enemies stalking me harder than the sitches
Ended up a martyr on what started as a mission
Shot him where he used to hold his daughter in his pictures
Now his momma talkin' 'bout
"Somebody know who did it, my baby ain't deserve it"
She crying at the service
In the streets in triple C's and stealing jeans from mervyns
Trigger squeezers, split the scene
I iced them with the Gervin
Finger roll, we seen them toll
He said it ain't on purpose
Now we up in medical they askin' why he said it cold
Better know I never change
Runnin' with these yanks
Poppy block
Down the 65th, down the 68th
Want a shot, you will never get
But we came to play
And free Killer Cash from the A
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Hans Izak Adam, Nick Simmons
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.


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