Surf and Turf

Vince StaplesVince Staples 

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Vince Staples

Vincent Jamal Staples (born July 2, 1993) is an American rapper and actor from the Ramona Park area of North Long Beach, California. He is a member of the hip hop trio Cutthroat Boyz alongside fellow Californian rappers Aston Matthews and Joey Fatts. Staples was once a close associate of Odd Future, in particular Mike G and Earl Sweatshirt. He is currently signed to Blacksmith Records, ARTium Recordings and Def Jam Recordings. Staples rose to prominence with appearances on albums by Odd Future members and his collaborative mixtape titled Stolen Youth with Mac Miller, who produced the project. In October 2014, he released his debut EP Hell Can Wait, which included the singles "Hands Up" and "Blue Suede". His debut album, Summertime '06, was released on June 30… more »

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Where we at with it?
Block West, let's get it

Slums of Detroit, drugs on the port
Plug with the source
Gun in my shorts, blood was the sport
Jumped from the porch
Hung like a horse, ones with the fours
Drunk in the Porsche, trunk full of corpse
Done with the torch
Run for the four, love for my daughter
Son was the fourth youngin' on the run with a warrant
Motherfuck a jail, gender, corpse, club full of dorks
Got it out the mud in my ports
Had to let the love run its course
Cousin up North, plugged in New York
Plugged on the coast, dozen of storks
Tub full of dope
Road trips to Ips', he was good with the coke
Real niggas like Nipsey give a hood nigga hope
Doug with the smoke, got about a dub in my coat
Ain't even on the flyer, but think I'm in love with the host
Glove on the toast, this for all my cousins and folks
Bloods and my locs, they know I'm a thug 'till I croak
This how we comin'

Overlord status, I be slummin'
My son think that I don't love 'em
He don't know his daddy thuggin'
Said, "I been out here since a youngin'"
Runnin' up a check, thumbin' stuffin' hundreds in that drum
These niggas notice how we comin'
It ain't no future in your frontin' 
When my shooters get to dumbin'
You know my crew ain't missin' nothin'
Over them bloopers and them punkers
Niggas, notice how we comin'

First through the third, fifteenth through the thirty-first
Thirty-one, third, big three in my dirty squirt
Burnin' shirt, me and Nick speed, here, you heard it first
Curtis Curb, niggas cook beef like it's surf and turf
You know we swervin' Percs, slicker than fish grease
Them early worms get the birds with the big beaks
She got your bitch workin' my nerves out at Twin Peaks
G&E, olive martinis, we don't mix drinks
Big links, only built for Cubans
Think I'm big Meech, I been brickin'
Now I need that Cuban with the big sink
I been street with me, Nut and J-9, now we in deep
When it's just me
It's just me and my nine, feel like I'm ten deep
On the war, I'm plannin' in the hood, feel like Big Squeak
Off a forest, dancin' with them 'Woods, niggas been sheep
The hood want the music, tryna not let this shit leak
My son tryna fill my shoes, but daddy got some big feet
(You've got some pretty big shoes to fill)

Overlord status, I be slummin'
My son think that I don't love 'em
He don't know his daddy thuggin'
Said, "I been out here since a youngin'"
Runnin' up a check, thumbin' stuffin' hundreds in that drum
These niggas notice how we comin'
It ain't no future in your frontin'
When my shooters get to dumbin'
You know my crew ain't missin' nothin'
Over them bloopers and them punkers
Niggas, notice how we comin'

Came with the Crips, came with the script
Churn up the grits, can't never slip
Bang on the hip, burst from the whip, drive-by shooter
Autopilot, when I bye-bye losers
Look mama, no hands, look mama, more bands
Big house, more land, lil' Vince a grown man
Came with his own plan, no friends wanna pop me
Homie, you can't stop me
Thuggin' with the wop, burnin' up that swap meet
You know who the opps was, ain't nobody shot me
But I shot, mm, hm, hm, maybe 'bout three
Wasn't doin' too much, I done made a few bucks
I can get you Ku Kluxed, underneath the white sheet
Off the porch with hot feet
Coulda ran a forty in a four flat, .44, snub nose
Home, eleven, hold that, I ain't never shoot it thought
Traded for a deuce-five, and a sidekick's life
Put that shit on tiny scrap, pulled up where they find me at
Shot at them, we fire back, almost hit the gray Benz
Send it to Atlanta, got the Tesla with the gray rims
Try me, I'm gon' put you on a stretcher, that's on gang land

The breaking news tonight is that two people
According to Detroit Police
Were shot inside which prompted all of this
At the Citgo gas station, here on 8 Mile
The Camera, doesn't have a headlight on
And somebody if not a couple people 
Could be running out of this vehicle now
One, two, three

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