Matt Martians - Hive lyrics

[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