[Verse 1: Earl Sweatshirt]
Promise Heron I'll put my fist up, after I get my dick s**ed
Quick buck, maybe a gold chain
With that f**ing flow that s-s-so belittles men
They tentatively tend to turn and go when I am finished
Stone cold, hardly f**ing with these n***as, n***a listen
The description doesn't fit, if not a synonym of menace
Then forget it, in turn, these critics and interns
Admitting the sh** spitted, just burn like six furnaces
Writ, it affixed, learning them digits
And simultaneously, dispelling one-trick-pony myths, isn't he?
One adolescent, f**ing six-n***a energy
And crawling down 'Fax like a rich n***a centipede
Crack ceramic and slap a hand out of cash account
Stamp and shouting, thrashing
These n***as done let the Kraken out
Crack-a-lacking, like snap, crackle, popping your ammo off
Hide your face, and throw your flannels off, Sweatshirt, n***a
[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 n***as teeth loose
Bruh, I don't f** with no cop
Rolling with that flow swamp
Catch me over stove top
Rapping to that coke rock
Pa**ionless in old Jive clothing, with them doors wide open
Dim the floor lights, focused
Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, b**h
[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
From a city that's recession-hit
With stress n***as could flex metal with
Peddle to rake pennies in
Desolate testaments, trying to stay Jekyll-ish
But most n***as Hyde, and Brenda just stay pregnant
Breaking news: d**h'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 f**ing 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 f** you badder than?
Boy, oh boy, I'm bad as burnt pollo off the grill and sh**
Spitter of the Little Nick, nimble, rickrolling
b**h n***as pick litter, piff-blower, plus I pillage sh**
[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 n***as teeth loose
Bruh, I don't f** with no cop
Rolling with that flow swamp
Catch me over stove top
Rapping to that coke rock
Pa**ionless in old Jive clothing, with them doors wide open
Dim the floor lights, focused
Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, b**h
[Verse 3: Vince Staples]
Quit with all that tough talk, bruh
We know you n***as ain't about sh**
Come around, we gun 'em down, bodies piled, Auschwitz
Bulletproof outfits, weapons concealed
I'm ready to k**, 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 b**hes
After shows throwing out sandwiches, n***as get it
How they live and I live for money
Other words, I'm getting money
Lil Boy told me when it's time to ride
They'll send up for me
Ain't nobody scaring me
n***as ain't prepared for heat
Tools hit like pool sticks, the way I cue sh**
If this was '88, I would have signed to Ruthless
'94, would've had 'em walking down d**h 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 pa**
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 n***as spraying K's
Ruger with the pork face, Jewish for the court case
Here to save you n***as from the sorbet, Coldchain
[Spoken Outro]
Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, b**h