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Vince The Messenger

Vince The Messenger is a musical artist who specializes in hip-hop and rap. He is known for his unique lyrical style and insightful storytelling in his songs. Vince's music often explores various social issues and personal struggles, creating a thought-provoking and relatable listening experience for his audience. more »

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I'm upper echelon, sprinting with my Skechers on
Trying to keep my people up and lifted without hitting bong 
Hit and run, dropping all these tracks but never fumbled one once 
Stand up guy, done touched down, do what I want 
I don't feel no way about it, my face numb
Pay stubs, don't sway my balance 
I link arms with Alice, and chase down these rabbits 
The time tick forever, it's terror for all you bastards 
Get it my nigga, get it, my clips is always extended 
And I ain't talking 'bout shooting, my nigga it's strictly writtens 
It's obvious I'm prolific, the point is you get the message 
You loved me when I was losing, feel threatened because I'm winning 
And now you come with excuses, like Vincent you must be tripping 
You really testing my patience, I know a snake when it hisses 
I heard that you talking shit, so you can say it, I'll listen
Okay-okay now that's it, this ain't no therapy session - I
I sense aggression, and no progression inside your heart 
You gon' run up on the wrong man who pull your card 
Still screaming "f*ck the law-man" with no regard 
Just some lost souls searching man, that's all we are 
I'll be darned, I'll be damned if I'm not hot
Fiends steady knocking down/on my door like a crack spot
Love is what the cash cost, rapper be the mascot 
You could sell soul and only get this shit for half off
You a ghost, you a shell, you ain't doing well 
I be on my own, through the cold, blood hot as hell 
Throwing stones, throwing shade, only time will tell 
How I'm finna f*ck these people up who thought that I would fail

On that road to nowhere you go fast
NASCAR left turn, how you run laps 
You were cool for a grip, but it don't last 
Now you out your mind and only can blame your own ass
On that road to nowhere you go fast
NASCAR left turn, how you run laps 
You were cool for a grip, but it don't last 
Now you out your mind and only can blame your own ass  

Hold up no, now I'm grown up, but momma she still support us 
And no she ain't ever tripping cause I'm no doctor or lawyer 
My plan is just so much bigger, I can't be pushing Toyota 
Ain't toying with all you people, I guess I'm gon' have to show ya'
Show you right like where the bars at, posse need to fall back 
They say talk is cheap, so I see bluff and then I call that 
Sipping on that cognac, reminiscing 'bout some throwbacks 
I be often by my lonely but I know just where the squad at 
Ay, you ain't got nothing to say, so hold your breath son 
A hundred steps ahead of your head, is where I'm destined 
I know you threatened, so rap is a deadly weapon 
And capping just got you caught up, we waiting on your confession 

On that road to nowhere you go fast
Nascar left turn, how you run laps 
You were cool for a grip, but it don't last 
Now you out your mind and only can blame your own ass

 Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer