Earl Sweatshirt
Earl Sweatshirt & RZA - Molasses songtekst
Je score:
99 problems all gone in that one joint And the neck gold froze like he held it at gunpoint I'm a bubble in the belly of the monster With a duffel full of troubles, trunk rattle in the Mazda Ragged with the Contra, Phantom of the Opera And I'm standing on the cop's truck, stacking for the long run The bags packed, roadside with the thumb out Toe tag, don't gag, fag, spit your gum out Nomadic, chrome-grabbing with his day job A major born puffy holding flight like a hangar do Knife to the trachea, spit escapers are bent The label don't like me but they pay me a grip And you see how his day going by the state of his wrists My niggas busy Play-Dohing, bet the baker came swinging like What the fuck you saying? All that aiming amiss Hey, I'm a fuck the freckles off your bitch, nigga We could do this shit all night I'll fuck the freckles off your face, bitch We could do this shit all night I'll fuck the freckles off your face, bitch You know me, drugged out, 'front the telly I'm couch-drunk, ready to fuck, Tom Petty you bust Pack loud as that slap across the belly What's up? Fuck nigga, what's up? I'm Machi-deli Scheming on the fontana Camel Crush screaming "Saddle up!" Like fuck his beef, get your cattle cut, pansy If the fans only local, why the flights trans-Atlantied? I'm the rice to the paddies, good nights for the chancellor The teeth with the gold bright, the light switch's mad at us Snapchatted panty-clad baddies, I'm a bachelor Hired for life because po-lice is in back of us And write with the same hand I smack 'em up with Stretching out the fifteen I had initially Icky Thump, sticky kush lit up in a rental Jeep