Earl Sweatshirt

Wool
Soon as I catch the vibe tell 'em to fetch the hearseShorty I'm pressin' lines lifting the Lauren shirtTell her to bless the girth if she with itI'm in that kitchen, wrist water whippin'Psych nigga, I don't do thatNiggas get bloo-blapped and blown awayWessons making Mexicans wetbacks like óraleOkay, I'm on to somethingMomma should've told you it'd be days like thisIt's just a tale from the cripI'm on my séance shit, I'm tryna' make a million dollarsKeep it hood while crossing over on some A.I. shitI need a foreign baby momma to match a nigga model whipRamona Park made me from scratchA lot of lotto picks lost inside this game called rapI be the underdogBullet hit his forehead, it exit out his under armAin't nobody bigger than my hood, my nigga, fuck a bossBaby momma killer, you offended and I fuck her rawStretchy doin' federal time for bustin' at the lawAnd he gonna be a neighbor of mine, you play me for a pawnShorty I be swimmin' with sharks, your posse full of prawnsPistols rip his body apart, now he afraid of dark alleywaysNiggas better listen when the pastor sayIt's Golf on that-- bitch, it's Golf on that ball capSongtexteI guzzle the tall boy, Jehovah ain't call backAnd ya'll still debating over Earl musicTroops got the group nationwide moving merch units crazyPeanut butter to paisley, walking down the streetIn the different color McGrady's, that first grader was meNow my fist full of spliffs and the old banker receiptsBitches grip the stick and jerky like cold shanks of the beef, dryI'm taking purses like they chances in the eveningPick your pants up, boy, you dancing with a demonOn my momma I been limiting my features,filling swishers up with reeferBitch, it's difficult to beat him like a soft dickGolf clique deep and we don't hit the streets passiveThat nigga Sweaty got the gas and Shreddy k brought the matchesPut your body down in water like a Lipton tea bag and thenSwitch to different fucking whip to let them piggies speed past 'emIt's the rats, try and get the cheese What it do?Rap like I'm mincing meatCall me Lou, if I'm on the track, these niggas skip to meNiggas want to fade me, bitches feel some type of way for me50's in my pocket falling out like fucking baby teethVince be with the rocket, he gone pop it when it's danger roundFingertips to tapers, now, salute us when you face usGive a fuck about the moves all these loser niggas making now Aus Songtexte Mania