samo
Vince Staples Lyrics

Way up, way up
Reaching new heights, soaring higher than before

Same old thing
Continuously doing the familiar, predictable actions

Watch me do the same old thing
Witness as I repeat my usual behavior

If I wrote your ass a love song Could I make it bang?
If I crafted a passionate song for you, would it have a powerful impact?

If I pull up with my guns wrong Run, I make it bang
If I approach with my weapons drawn incorrectly, it will create chaos

Homie, tell me where you come from, tell me what you bang
My friend, share with me your origin and the group you associate with

Ain't a damn thing funny, but we laughing to the bank
There's nothing amusing, but we are accumulating wealth

Never blow a dough change, rather blow my fucking brain
I refuse to frivolously spend money; I'd rather end my own life

Decorator came from Spain Blow the budget on an accent door What that accent 'bout?
The interior designer arrived from Spain, and we extravagantly used funds on a unique doorway What is the significance of that accent?

Southern California, living daddy in and out of prison Ain't no father to my style, I'm the ODB
Residing in Southern California, my father frequently incarcerated I have no mentor to my distinct style; I am comparable to Ol' Dirty Bastard

Or the OPB when I go OT
Or the Orange Blossom Boys when I journey outside my home territory

All the shows sold out and the hoes show out
Every performance is completely booked and the women exert themselves

Tryna be a baby mama, tryna break a player pockets That's a no no
Attempting to become a mother and financially exploit a player That is unacceptable

This day forward I ain't taking photos Then we wear our old clothes, we ain't giving promo no mo'
From now on, I won't participate in taking pictures Then we dress in our older garments, refusing to engage in promotional activities anymore

Win the race or fix your face, your woman on my dinner plate
Succeed in the competition or alter your expression, as your partner is under my control

I'm coming for that last supper, sinner seat, I've been a G
I seek to obtain the final meal, occupying the seat of a sinner, as I have always been a gangster

I drive across the inner state
Traveling through the depths of my own mind

We cracked and launched the murder rate
We exacerbated the number of homicides

They know who did the killing, but they didn't see
They are aware of the perpetrator, yet they lack visual evidence

On the verse there's a price, on the show there's a fee
I charge a fee for my lyrical contributions, and there's a cost for attending my performances

We don't do no barber shopping, we don't show no empathy
We don't engage in trivial discussions, nor do we display any compassion

Empty out your pockets, ten thousand fee for that talking
Remove everything from your pockets, there's a ten thousand dollar fee for speaking excessively

I gotta take this extra five No doubt about it, we the best alive
I need to acquire another five units of currency There's no uncertainty, we are the most skilled individuals currently

No testifying, we silent Never told them our partners My partner and 'em got bodies
We refuse to provide testimony, maintaining our silence We never revealed the identities of our associates My comrades have committed murders

I'm tryna put 'em in robbers They used to put us in G rides, so now I put 'em in college
I am attempting to involve them in criminal activities They used to place us in stolen vehicles, so now I am funding their education

Put 'em on with this business then put 'em on with your mama
Introduce them to this enterprise and then connect them with your mother

Chain, big chain, ain't shit changed, same old thing
Adorned with a large, luxurious necklace, nothing has altered, it's the usual routine