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      Earl Sweatshirt

      Album: Doris

      Escuchar lo mejor de la musica de Earl Sweatshirt

      Earl Sweatshirt - Hive Música y Letra

      [Earl Sweatshirt]
      Promise Heron I'll put my fist up after I get my dick sucked
      Quick buck, maybe a gold chain
      With that fucking flow that s-s-so belittles men
      They tentatively tend to turn and go when I am finished
      Stone cold, hardly fucking with these niggas, nigga listen
      The description doesn't fit, if not a synonym of menace, then forget it
      In turn, these critics and interns
      Admitting the shit spitted just burn like six furnaces
      Writ, it affixed learning them digits, and simultaneously
      Dispelling one-trick-pony myths, isn't he?
      One adolescent, fucking six-nigga energy
      And crawling down 'Fax like a rich nigga centipede
      Crack ceramic and slap a hand out of cash account
      Stamp and shouting, thrashing, these niggas done let the Kraken out
      Crack-a-lackin', like snap, crackle, poppin' your ammo off
      Hide your face, and throw your flannels off, Sweatshirt, nigga
      [Casey Veggies]
      '87 roof top, Bronson
      Whipping hoopties tryna boost raw chronic
      (Brutus in that booth, double scoop, hot vomit up)
      (Sub rocking, thud knocking niggas teeth loose)
      Bruh, I don't fuck with no cop
      (Rolling with that flow swamp)
      Catch me over stove top
      (Rapping to that coke rock)
      (Passionless in old Jive clothing
      With them doors wide open)
      (Dim the floor lights, focused)
      Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, bitch
      [Earl Sweatshirt]
      From a city that's recession-hit
      With stress niggas could flex metal with, peddle to rake pennies in
      Desolate testaments trying to stay Jekyll-ish
      But most niggas Hyde, and Brenda just stay pregnant
      Breaking news: death's less important when the Lakers lose
      It's lead in that baby food, heads try to make it through
      Fish-netted legs for them eyes that she cater to
      Ride dirty as the fucking sky that you praying to
      So here I sit, eye in the pyramid
      God spit it like it's truth serum in that beer and then
      Disappear again, reappear bearded
      On top of a lear, steering it into the kids' ear again
      Provider of the backdrop music
      For the crack rock user and the mascot Earl
      Rawer than the skinned knee cap on the blacktop
      Salivary glands, lighter fluid for the matchbox
      Striking, wait, wait, who the fuck you badder than?
      Boy, oh boy, I'm bad as burnt pollo off the grill and shit
      Spitter of the Little Nick, nimble, rickrolling
      Bitch niggas pick litter, piff-blower, plus I pillage shit
      [Vince Staples]
      Quit with all that tough talk, bruh, we know you niggas ain't about shit
      Come around, we gun 'em down, bodies piled, Auschwitz
      Bulletproof outfits, weapons concealed
      I'm ready to kill, so test it, all my weapons is real
      Selling thizz, couldn't tell him what the recipe is
      Got 'em wishing that they never gave these weapons to kids, cheers
      Send chills up spines of fat bitches after
      Shows throwing out sandwiches, niggas get it how they
      Live and I live for money, other words, I'm getting money
      Little boy told me when it’s time to ride, they’ll send up for me
      Ain't nobody scaring me, niggas ain't prepared for heat
      Tools hit like pool sticks, the way I cue shit
      If this was '88, I would have signed to Ruthless
      '94, would've had them walking down Death Row
      First is when the best go, hate is what the rest do
      Voice inside my head told me, Wet 'em if they test you
      So it's Raging Waters season
      That yomper big as Larry Johnson, leave your momma seedless
      Everybody hard until it's only God they seeing
      Kittens soft but in they songs be trapping hard as Jeezy, I don't believe it
      But to each his own, I ain't tripping long as I can reach the chrome
      Heat your home like Southern California Gas, police pass
      Tell 'em "Free Smalls," off Palm with the heat drawn
      Strapped up long as the chief for police armed
      Raised where the beasts are, north of the Beach
      A couple streets past Baby J, bony niggas spraying Ks
      Ruger with the pork face, Jewish for the court case
      Here to save you niggas from the sorbet, Coldchain
      Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, bitch

      Earl Sweatshirt - Hive Música y Letra






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