SAUCE - Reason, Vince Staples

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

I might slip, I don’t fall, if I slip, I might crawl

I just drip, I got sauce, I just drip, I got sauce

If she dip, that bitch loss, I don’t trip, I’m a boss

I might slip, I don’t fall, I just drip, I got sauce

Way, way, way, way, riding 'round town on Sunset (True)

Cali weed loud like Funk Flex (Funk Flex)

Road trips, low drip, don’t rush shit (No)

No bitch-ass niggas, no fuck shit (No)

No, no, fuck shit, get chin-checked (Yeah)

Treat a queen like a queen, don’t give a bitch shit (No)

New whip, shit crawl like insects (Insects)

Lotta hoes, lotta hoes, gang fishnet (Fishnet)

Lotta hoes, lotta hoes, more problems (Problems)

Came, then a nigga left, Obama (Obama)

Lame bitches get blocked, O-lineman (O-lineman)

Top called, nigga, that ain’t no problem (No, no)

Nice smile, they assume I’m such a nice guy (True)

Bougie nigga, first class on the flight time (Ah)

Bougie nigga, fuck a bitch from the right side (True)

Tell her, «If she got a friend, then I might slide"(Slide)

Tell her that I need a friend a nigga could show off

She ain’t got goals, then, nigga, I’m so lost

I done fell in love from fucking some hoes raw (Yeah)

I done fell in love while getting some hoes off (Oh)

I done fell in love while doing some hoes ign’ant (Oh)

X called a nigga, I don’t listen

First-class, I steer it in my pigment

Had to work to get it to roll different, yeah

I’m 'bout to slip (Yuh), I don’t fall (Yuh), if I slip, I might crawl

I just drip, I got sauce, I just drip, I got sauce (Way, way, way, way)

If she dip, that bitch loss, I don’t trip, I’m a boss (Yuh)

I might slip, I don’t fall (Yuh), I just drip, I got sauce

Who got the sauce?

Who got the sauce, huh?

Whip the rock with the Voss, yuh

Hit the block, chip the bars, yuh

Catch a P, Randy Moss, yuh

I don’t rock with the police none

Don’t ditch the Glock when the police come

They gon' shoot a nigga anyway (Oww)

Any day of the week

Ain’t a 'woofer, man, he whoopin' his feet on the concrete

With my dawgs and the stick like a bomb suite

Cooking up, better duck like a confit

'Cause it’s on me

Ain’t a nigga living ever have to warn me

I was ready-ready, with the macaroni

Turn him into Makaveli, we be stackin' fetti (Yeah)

I don’t ever wanna be a broke boy no more

Sold-out merch, sold-out tour

Mount Rushmore for the real ones, yeah

All my homies done killed some, yeah (Ayy)

All my hommys done fucked time (That scale)

Some got dope, gangin' all night (We the homies, nigga)

Some escape, but we don’t respect it

I’m so invested and so protected

We live corrections, all uncorrected

Snuck the FN in undetected

I might slip, I don’t fall, if I slip, I might crawl

I just drip, I got sauce, I just drip, I got sauce

If she dip, that bitch loss, I don’t trip, I’m a boss

I might slip, I don’t fall, I just drip, I got sauce