Guild – Earl Sweatshirt – letras

Said this a hit of liquid heroinMarilyn manson channeling, panicking, spar with anakin’Til one of us leave in an ambulanceBlow the smoke of the spliff in your eyesYou ain’t gon’ live till you dieIntelligent bitch on my sideShe bitching, I’m spitting habitual liesI hit her up when my jet landGot a swisher tucked in my headbandFront page news, I’m young JesusEating bagels with no cable onBeen fucking hoes since when mase was onI hope that basedgod hears my prayersOne day you’re here, the next day you’re goneSo me and earl smoking weed on jay-z’s lawnSome dope rap on your ho ass, tony womackDon’t hold back, or feed your girl cognacMeet a bitch, sleepin’ with her, feverish, keep a chickMet her off twitter even schindler keeps a listPittsburgh, broke down somewhere in a fiskerI could pull your bitch with a whisper and diss herDumbass hoShe only dumb cause she love that thoughSomewhere getting high reading, juxtapozI hit her up, she come throughand watch adjustment bureauMoms love me cause I’m so commercialI fuck ’em raw cause I know they fertileIn myrtle beach with a purple fleeceHotel lobbies playing fur eliseI’m ron burgundy mixed with herculesSlap a bitch in the mouth if she curse at meI said josh’s beard is like paul revereWhen he walk in the room it’s like God is hereI’m at a prop shop in montauk throwing tomahawksAt civilians… I’m chillin’I’m on the monitor niggaShe taking it like a champAnd I’m proud of her niggaI’m on the couch where that loud is burningI’m shouting, « I don’t fuck with you »Cause I don’t, never love a hoBut we could play doctor, maOpen wide for the thermometerYour cow girl’s crotch ridingWith a clean, faded fro, lopsidedTell the label that I want a white driverAnd tell him give me space, I don’t know that niggaBold ass little fuckin’ low class villainWhole van tinted, nope can’t kill himIt’s the trashwang nigga, that’s what’s upHalf pint of hope in that plastic cupReal nigga from the start till the casket shutPresent his own case as a basket onePresent-day based nigga, smack the judgeRiding with them same niggas ashin’ bluntsWhile that bass make his face like he mad or somethin’Slide in the safe, take the cash and runKnow that if he fake I’m harrassin’ himTook the big toe so they tagged the tongueOut here stuntin’ like I’m supposed to, dogBlowing more smoke than a broke exhaustPipe only spirit that I hold in the darkIt’s wolf gang bitch like you know these pawsLiving like it’s ’62Spit and grip my genitalsMy bitch to split the swisherMy niggas split the residualsAye, marijuana fieldsPot growing, blaring gil scottHeron while we pill popErrand run and kill copNiggas know I feel notFor ’em, stop bitchingStare and get that grill knockedOpen