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

Звук


Интерфейс


Уровень сложности


Акцент



язык интерфейса

ru

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
1
зарегистрироваться / войти
Lyrkit

донат

5$

Lyrkit

донат

10$

Lyrkit

донат

20$

Lyrkit

Или поддержи меня в соц. сетях:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Earl Sweatshirt

Home

 

Home


Self-loathing narcissist
Spitting crowbars out the back window of cars and shit
And acting like a klonopin binge, hardening
And switching up the moniker of artists into arsonists

Knock-knock, it's that prodigal pen-throttle, bitch
Popping like the top of a bottle of hot JavaScript
Rhyme harder than nine joggers with
Shin splints dodging an ornery rhinoceros

Order me my waffles and bother me not, blogger
The option of being modest just walked to where my father went
Ponder how we can holler then spit darker
Than Gotham at six bars in the genre then lick shots

At imposters and miss nada, Volatile pig brawler
Is hotter than lit parliament singeing your fucking arm
In the parking lot of a Target, I'm targeted, piss-harboring
Heart dark as that thick parka I slip markers in

Holla if you've never been a starter
Spartan kicking jocks and tossing salt at their Ed Hardy shit
Burning chops, talking shit, rocking 28's on a rocket ship
So I could give a fuck about the car you in, nigga

Drool and chew aluminum
Blue 'Preme overalls, jump when the Goombas come
Some of you should run from where the shooters come
Out for cheese with a studio, it's like a gouda run, it glues to us

Shouts to pigeons that I flew amongst
Mouth deliver poop, it's spouting mucus from its stupid tongue
Alpha male, got the chickens looser than his cruising trucks
Losers get a Kuma Punch, I'm moving like a puma's lunch (Thanks James)

And I'm... back... bye

готово

Ты добавил себе все незнакомые слова из этой песни?