Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Sound


Interface


Difficulty level


Accent



interface language

en

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Cookie policy   |   Support   |   FAQ
1
register / login
Lyrkit

donate

5$

Lyrkit

donate

10$

Lyrkit

donate

20$

Lyrkit

And/Or support me in social. networks:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Earl Sweatshirt

20 Wave Caps

 

20 Wave Caps

(album: Doris - 2013)


[Verse 1: Domo Genesis]
Look for me
Lost in a whirlwind, 2012 quality
High up until the world end, doing 85 in my ride
And these niggas hiding, know I'm striding like a giant
I ain't lying when I'm rhyming, rule these niggas like a tyrant
Damn, Doms, it don't even seem like you trying
Know these niggas crucify 'em, couldn't crack him I'm a diamond
I know these niggas is finding my progression so uncommon
The pressure I'm still applying until I hear the angels crying
Sad day in Hell for those who doubted, hope your head explode
Cry about it, but don't deny that Doms got the realest flows
My eyes is feeling low, pulling on the killer 'dro
Chilling with a vixen, thinking "This is what I did it for"
Still banging, Wolf Ganging as if you niggas didn't know
Still trife and Loiter Litter Life and triple sixing, ho

[Bridge: Earl Sweatshirt]
Doms
Doms

[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
Doms, why they ripping through the packaging to grab the shit?
Shaded with the few whom I usually blow cabbage with
New Patterns, and patty-caking with mannequins
Cause I don't like my fucking homies dip, bruh, they all
Jaw-slacking, all of 'em awe struck
And I ain't got shit but a pretty bitch and cigar tucks
Riding in the city and knocking out in the Starbucks
I swear these niggas is fucking phony, smoking spliffs and that's
Prior to arriving to the studio
Eyes glued to a gluteus maximus, attractive lady
Where you headed with that shit?
And can a real nigga get a look at it? Crook, panic-shook
Ain't ya? Blunt fatter than some butch ankles
Chef and fit the cook apron, ante up for good payment
Run until my foot achy, running 'till my foot aching
Full-grown tear type, Ferragamo do-rag
With my nigga Travy out in Maui, running two-mans
Smoking 'till I'm loopy as a motherfucking toucan
20 minutes, burn a fucking quarter back to two grams
But I'm a dip, I know you must have had it with my rude ass

done

Did you add all the unfamiliar words from this song?