Get The Fuck Off My Dick Lyrics - Vince Staples

Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my bitch 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib 

Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick 

Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my bitch 

Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick 

Yeah, I ain't takin' no more calls, might think 'bout callin' it quits 

Press is tryin' to block my blessings, no more talking to Vince 

NPR and XXL, man, I can't tell which is which 

Missed the mark, I think my label need a marketin' switch 

Hold up, switch the flow up, I won't roll for nothing 

Rappers ho up, then they blow up, guess who do the fuckin'? 

VMA and Grammy snubbin', not walkin' through no clubs 

Homie you can keep your money, it don't do nothing for me 

Heard they lookin' for me yeah, you're a dummy yeah 

Have somebody find your body parts, run and run it, yeah 

Ay bay-bay, ain't for play, sear the steaks, steal the Wraith 

(And them Wraiths is ugly, by the way 

We see you got money to spend, but, nonetheless) 

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Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my bitch 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib 

Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick 

Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my bitch 

Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick 

I'm from Ramona, no school diploma 

We caught him slippin', he in a coma 

You got two choices, lose your life or your persona 

I still hear voices from them nights I hit them corners 

Walked through the MoMA, just did the feature, hit the scene 

And blew the quota, I might do Toshiyuki Kita for the sofa 

Might save my Nike check and spend my Coca-Cola 

Don't count my packets, pocket rocket leave you tore up 

Time to glow up, from the floor up how I came 

You don't know my pain, bitch, don't act like you don't know my name 

Don't record me man, bitch, you see me tryna board this plane 

Don't you touch my frame, still the one who bust you in your brain 

I don't fuck with fame, you don't see me in no fuckin' chains 

Ain't no fuckin' slave, Def Jam ain't gon' put me on no pay 

This the sound I made, won't nobody knock me off my wave 

I'm the god in this, fuck up off my dick 

Photos 

Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my bitch 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib 

Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick 

Get the fuck off now, get the fuck off my dick 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my car or my crib 

Hard to tell which one more perfect, man, my art or my bitch 

Avant-garde with this shit, get your jaws off my dick