Lyrics Vic Mensa – Heathens Freestyle
Text:
Tyler Joseph:
All my friends are heathens take it slow
Wait for hem to ask you who you know
Please don’t make any sudden moves
Vic Mensa:
Grew up around heathens, the streets made us Tarzans
Slanging Mary Jane, swanging out a mini van
Banana clips for gorillas and cold killers
Percy Miller black card got no limits
It wasn’t always this way, I can attest
To nights I carried lead case a nigga wanna test
Number two can puncture you, better wear a vest
We packing like a Lunchable, we live in constant threat
My history is filled with a long list of regrets
Looking back at my past, doing this victory lap
Surprised I made it, young eyes grown jaded
They killed my brother dead, wonder why I’d be faded
Sometimes I feel guilty for being the boy who lived, I could’ve been the one with that knife inside my ribs
I guess God had bigger plans for the kid when I woke up still alive on that hospital bed
I still feel violence, I got blood shot eyelids
Non-stop flights, I need 21 pilots
Give me 21 beats, there’s 21 bodies
21 thotties in the W lobby
Man trust, you can rock a Rollie or handcuffs
Either way the police gon’ say pull your pants up
Since you in the county they don’t want you to stand up
Niggas say you change as soon as you get your bands up
I find it funny how, I’m getting money now
Them girls don’t treat me like an ugly duckling now
Now it’s me and Perrie, ‘scuse my French but they fucking now
That’s why I date while I hate them I got no love
I was set an ultimatum on the tour bus
It’s very simple you can walk if you don’t bust
Papi my brothers so you gotta fuck both us
Yeah, I be with heathens but I’ve earned my stripes
Keep a SIG, I’m too pretty for fist fights
Until these niggas kill me I just wanna live life
Cop a palace in the city, buy a little ice
But y’all know me, I don’t rock diamonds
Only the Roc diamonds, that’s how I’m shining
Big broach homie, it was all about timing
So every roll call I make sure I’m signed in
Wait til they find that max Jay signed him
Could be an astrologist how my stars aligning
I fuck with Bad Boy like I’m Mario Winans
Puff know I got him if niggas shootin’ I’m firin’
Please don’t even speak to me about stylin’
I rock Gucci drawers, my nuts Italian
And I’m from the Chi where they ultra-violent
Pulling big racks out the Gosha wallet
Tell ’em «these heathens leave you bleeding
Screaming please, oh jeez he’s leaking
Get him to the church he gon’ need a deacon»
Running like DMC’s Adidas
Demons, heaters loca, like la vida
Outta’ this world, Zetus Lapetus
I don’t want your girl, cut her off like a fetus
Abort this track ’till a beat ain’t breathing, bitch!