Fire - Vince Staples

School couldn’t get me into Heaven

And Heaven couldn’t get me in a bitch bed

Bred 11's that I stole on a house lick

Got them hoes, whole Polo outfits

Feelin' like Young Dro, summertime '06

Thirteen years old runnin' my home, ya bitch

Believe that, we was thuggin' on the back street

Catchin' cases, probably finna go to Hell anyway

I’m probably finna go to Hell anyway

I’m probably finna go to Hell anyway

I’m probably finna go to Hell anyway

I’m probably finna go to Hell anyway

Them Yankee hats remind me of my younger days

Dog was a maniac

My momma had me where them babies havin' babies at

My knuckles ashy knockin' niggas on they ass

For smackin', never lackin', road to riches is a path

Mothafucka watch your ass

And quick race, dawg, for when cold blood like Crips

You dig your own grave when you fuckin' with the Lord

Catch a fade, probably finna go to Hell anyway