Текст на песента

[Intro: Earl Sweatshirt]

Promise Heron I'll put my fist up, after I'll get my dick sucked

Quick buck, maybe a gold chain

[Verse 1: Earl Sweatshirt]

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-lacking, like snap, crackle, popping your ammo off

Hide your face, and throw your flannels off, Sweatshirt, nigga

[Hook: Casey Veggies & Earl Sweatshirt]

'87 roof top, Bronson

Whipping hoopties tryna boost raw chronic

(Brutus in that booth, double scoop, hock 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

[Verse 2: 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

[Hook]

[Verse 3: 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 'em 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

Kitten 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 K's

Ruger with the pork face, Jewish for the court case

Here to save you niggas from the sorbet, Coldchain

[Outro]

Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, bitch

Earl Sweatshirt - Hive (feat. Vince Staples & Casey Veggies) – текст


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