Hive chords and lyrics - EARL SWEATSHIRT

Lời & hợp âm

[Verse 1]
Promise [C]Her[Em]on I'll put my fist u[F]p
after I [Am]get my dick [Em]sucked
Quick [F]buck, maybe a
[Am]gold [Em]chain
With that fucking [F]flow that s-s-so belittles
[Am]belittles belittles [Em]men
They tentatively [C]tend to turn
and go when I am finished
Stone [Em]cold, hardly fucking [F]with these niggas,
[Am]nigga listen
[Em]The description doesn't fit,
[F]if not a syn[Am]onym of menace, [Em]then forget it
In turn, [F]these critics an[Am]d interns
[Em]admitting the shit[C] spit
It just burn like six furnaces writ it
It af[Em]fixed learning them di[F]gits,
and sim[Am]ultaneously
[Em]"Dispelling one-trick-pony myths,
[F]myths, myths, isn't [Em]he?"
One adolescent,
fuck[F]ing six-nigga energy
[Am]energy
[Em]And crawling d[C]own fax like a[Em]
rich [C]nigga [Em]centipede
Crack ceram[F]ic and slap [Am]a hand
out of cash [Em]account
Stamp and shouting, thrash[F]ing,
these niggas done [Am]let the Kraken o[Em]ut
Crack-a-lackin', like like like [F]snap,
crackle, pop[Am]pin' your ammo [Em]off
Hide your [C]face, and throw your flannels [Em]off,
[Am]Sweatshirt, nigga
[Em](Sweatshirt, nigga)[F]

[Verse 2]
'87 roof [Am]top, Bronson
[Em]Whipping hoopties tryna
boost [F]raw chronic
[Am](Bru[Em]tus in that booth, double scoop,
[F]hock [Am]vomit [Em]up)
(Sub rocking,
thud knocking niggas [Am]teeth loose)
[C]Bruh, I don't [Em]fuck with no cop
[F](Rolling with that [Am]flow [Em]swamp)
Catch me over stove top
[F](Rapping to that [Am]coke rock)
[Em](Passionless in old Jive clothing
With them [F]door[Am]s wide
[Em]open)
(Dim the floor [F]lights, focused)
Like it's nothing,
[Em]cause it's [F]nothing, [Em]bitc[Eb]h

[Verse 3]
[G]From a city that's recession-hit
With With stress niggas could flex metal with,
peddle to rake pennies in
Desolate testaments trying
to stay Jekyll-ish
But But most [Em]niggas Hyde,
and Brenda just stay pregnant
Breaking news: death's [F]less import
[Am]ant when the Laker[Em]s lose
There's lead in that baby [F]food,
head[Am]s try to make it[Em] through
Fish-netted legs leg[F]s for them
eye[Am]s that she cater [Em]to
Ride dirty as the fucking
[C]sky that you [Em]praying to
So here I [F]sit, [Am]eye in the pyrami[Em]d
God spit it like [F]it's truth ser[Am]um
in that beer [Em]an d then
Disappear [F]again, re[Am]appear bearded
[Em]On top of a le[C]ar,
steering it into the kids' ear [F]again
[C]Provider of the back[Em]drop music
For the [C]crack [Em]rock user
and the [C]mas[Em]cot, Earl
[C]Rawer than the skinned knee cap
[Em]on t[C]he black[Em]top[C]
Salivary glands,
lighter fluid for [Em]the matchbox
Striking, [F]wait, wait,
who the [Am]fuck you badder [Em]than?
Boy oh boy, I'm bad [F]as burnt pol
[Am]lo off the grill a[Em]nd shit
Spitter of the Little [F]Nick,
[Am]nimble, [Em]rickrolling
Bitch niggas [F]pick litter, piff-blower,
[Em]plus plus I pillage [F]shit

[Verse 4]
'87 roof [Am]top, Bronson
[Em]Whipping hoopties tryna
boost [F]raw chronic
[Am](Bru[Em]tus in that booth, double scoop,
[F]hock [Am]vomit [Em]up)
(Sub rocking,
thud knocking [F]niggas teeth loose)
[C]Bruh, I don't [F]fuck [Em]with no cop
[F](Rolling with that [Am]flow swamp)
Catch [Em]me over stove top
[F](Rapping to that [Am]coke
rock[Em])
(Passionless in old Jive clothing
[F]With them door[Am]s wide
[Em]open)
(Dim the floor [F]lights, focused)
Like it's nothing, [Em]cause it's [F]nothing, bitch
Quit [Eb]with all that [G]tough talk,

[Verse 5]
bruh, we know you niggas ain't about shit
Come [C]around, we gun 'em down,
[G]bodies piled, Auschwitz
Bulletproof outfits, weapons concealed
I'm [C]ready [G]to kill, so test it,
all my weapons is real
[F]Selling [Em]thizz, couldn't tell
him what the recipe is
Got [C]'em wishing that they never gave
these weapon[Em]s to kids, cheers
Send chills [C]up spines
[Em]of fat bitches [C]after
Shows throwing out sandwiches,
[Em]niggas get it how they
Live and I live for [F]money, other [Am]words,
I'm [Em]getting money
Little boy told me [F]when it's time [Am]to ride,
they'll send them [Em]for me
Ain't nobody scaring [F]me,
[Am]niggas ain't prepared for [Em]heat
Tools hit like pool sticks, the way I cue [G]shit
If this was '88, I would have
[C]signed to Ruth[G]less
Nine-four, would've would've [C]had
them walk[G]ing down Death 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"
[Em]So it's Raging Waters season
[F]Tha[Em]t yomper big as Larry Johnson,
leave your momma seedless
Everybody hard un[C]til it's
only God they seeing
Kittens soft but in they songs be trapping
hard as Jeezy, I don't [G]believe [Em]it
But to each his own,
I ain't [F]tripping long [Am]as I can [Em]reach the chrome
Heat your home like Southern [F]California [Am]Gas,
police [Em]pass
Tell 'em "Free Small[F]s," off Palm
[Am]with the heat [Em]drawn
Strapped [C]up long as the
chief for police armed
[G]Raised where the beasts are,
north of the Beach
A couple streets past Baby J,
bony niggas spraying Ks
Ruger with the pork face,
Jewish for the court case
Here [Am]to save you niggas from the sorbet,
Coldchain

[Verse 6]
Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, bitch