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Vince Staples – Hell Bound Lyrics

Play this song

[Intro]
I do it
(Turn it up)
I do it, yeah
(Hey, turn it up)
I do it
Ayy

[Pre-Chorus]
Man down, white sheets, yellow tape
That’s what you get for tryna hesitate
My homies go so hard they medicate
We never making it to heaven’s gates

[Chorus 1]
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down

[Verse 1]
Okay, now baby, let me see you drop that ass to the ground
Okay, now baby, come and see me on the Norf of the town
You know I love you, let me cuff you if it’s round and brown
Grandmama told me keep them homely, hungry citches from ’round
I told her everybody love me, she said, “Not them people, trust me”
She said they just wanna fuck me, she said they just want some money
She said they just want mandingo, don’t be giving up my C-Notes
I said, “These is blue strips”, throw ’em up like a true crip
Growing up I was too slick, you can’t play me ’cause I got the game

[Chorus 2]
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Okay, now baby, let me see you drop that ass to the ground
Okay, now, hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Okay, now baby, let me see you drop that ass to the ground
Okay, now

[Verse 2]
Sweet Baby Jesus
Please give me the strength to keep from maxing out my Visas
Lunch at Matsuhisa, no more eating Little Caesars
Pressure life can stress you out when everybody need ya
Love ya but they’ll bleed ya, got it out the hard way
Artesia Boulevard Way, ayy, Ramona Park way
Ayy, we did it our way and can do it all day
You see I live for that, tell him kill that noise before I kill his ass, man

[Chorus 3]
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Hellbound, it’s goin’ down
Okay, now

Vic Mensa & Valee – Dim Sum

[Chorus: Valee & Vic Mensa]
I don’t know ’bout you but
I got my own money
Hundred thousand on me
In high fashion on me
Hey, hey, hey
I don’t know ’bout you
I don’t know ’bout you but
I got my own money
Hundred thousand on me
It’s high fashion on me
Hey, hey, hey (Vino Valentino)
I don’t know ’bout you

[Verse 1: Vic Mensa]
Me and Valee got the city hot
Valet the DB11 at Diddy’s spot
I don’t usually rap ’bout the shit I got
You a hater for a living, that’s a shitty job
I just made 2 mil, I don’t milly rock
My IG inbox is full of forget-me-nots
They know I got my own money
Handmade t-shirt, it’s Off-White Murakami
Met her at Equinox, she got no tummy, hey
Cartier lenses, I see the fu shit 20/20, hey
You hate your life, you checkin’ the price
I don’t use Tinder, all I do is swipe
Glock 17 as I kiss you goodnight
I’m not 17, bitch, I don’t want to fight
Just performed at Playhouse, left with a Play Bunny
Michael Jordan’s Steakhouse, fillet, sautéed onions
He say he gon’ rob me, he think he Davis, haha, that shit funny
Get your girl, she on my line, she forgot her panties, Vino

[Chorus: Valee]
I don’t know ’bout you but
I got my own money
Hundred thousand on me
In high fashion on me
Hey, hey, hey
I don’t know ’bout you
I don’t know ’bout you but
I got my own money
Hundred thousand on me
It’s high fashion on me
Hey, hey, hey
I don’t know ’bout you

[Verse 2: Valee]
Sittin’ at the light, I rock Off-White
Four-door is white, my diamonds bright
Stayed up tonight, late up, you right
Yves St. Laurent, baby, you’re mine
You trippin’, yeah, I’m gon’ leave you
Cross-shoulder Gucci knapsack, I see you
Promethazine with no ice, I don’t need you
Push up in the driveway, no top, don’t need you
Stop and wipe off my Margielas, they bleedin’ (hey, yeah)
I’m off a Percocet 30, don’t need it (yeah, huh)
That ain’t no real Actavis, you can keep it (tuh, uh huh)
Your bitch top model, that’s why she conceited (yeah, uh huh)

[Bridge: Valee]
I can see shit clear
I rock the zones, I see the fu shit clear, hey
Hundred thousand on me, hey
I got my own money, yeah

[Chorus: Valee]
I don’t know ’bout you but
I got my own money
Hundred thousand on me
It’s high fashion on me
Hey, hey, hey
I don’t know ’bout you

[Verse 3: Valee & Vic Mensa]
I’m in the Ferrari Modena
I’m in that new Spider, this not a four seater
Bitch got an Aston Martin, no Gina
I painted my nails red, her hair red, paprika
Ooh, she need security, Brinks her
I took her to Catch, this ain’t no Little Caesars
My Chinese bitches bad, they look like a Geisha
My African bitch bad, she pray to Orishas
I’m smokin’ loud like an ice cream truck speakers
It’s Halloween, I’m in Christian Dior creepers
This is not Pucci, this some Gucci sneakers
I don’t know ’bout you, hey

[Chorus: Valee]
I don’t know ’bout you but
I got my own money
Hundred thousand on me
In high fashion on me
Hey, hey, hey
I don’t know ’bout you