文本歌词

Elimination Chamber - Earl Sweatshirt/Vince Staples/Action Bronson
Oh so cocky you can't stop me in this old versace
Ni**a watch me in the streets like it's roller hockey
Your b**ch is floppy givin' sloppy while she call me papi
Takin' the doggies right to the face like she kobiyashi
You ni**as' flow is washy I'm gettin' mines dry cleaned
Tight seam it might seem I'm sellin' b**ches pipe dreams
Hi fiends I'm back with a bag of them packed white things
My nikes clean I see these ni**as hatin' through my ice blings
I'm a bad motherf**ker I ain't use a rubber
Super lover so soon you say hello to your newest brother
The truest colors what I bleed but you ain't seen enough of
Ni**a leakin' you gon' have to go see the deacon you stupid sucka
Young dom say you old ni**as should wrap it up
You wack focus back on the craft you hardly rap enough
The fattest blunt and death to that pop hop I ain't ask for much
And stop askin' for the collabs cause all you bastards suck
This that thirty deep it's saugus sh*t fire starter squadron
Dodgin' coppers since ask her why she droppin' cuz it's probably cause
He prodigious pay the rent easy leave the bank cheesy
And bass leave your face greasy artisan paint easy
Thick bristle type ni**a on a b**ch steez
Stanzas diesel like vic tanny on a fritz whoops
System overload itchin' for a foe to poach
Spittin' like the engine on a motherf**kin' motorboat
Gold glisten under overcoat missin' all
Affection for these ni**as redirectin' all these ni**as
Very literal type to sip the mickeys out of cereal
Drunk and drivin' twisty how he inked up in the swimming pool
Hundred stand against me I'm a menace void a villain sue me
Drivin' into fences cause I hit the whip a little woozy
B**ch I'm busy cruisin'
'Scuse me
Can't even walk up in the church without these ni**as tryin' to testify
I live to die better that than to live a lie
I rap better than most these rap veterans
Hard headed and hopeless hope that god let us in
Momma didn't wanna give birth to a ni**a
Should've murdered a ni**a I'm a cancer to the youth
Automatics out the roof 380 with the weave in it
On site scary as prom nights with carrie
Or car rides with berry that's halle not brent
Shootin' like brent and his brother doin' what daddy had did
Ni**as want grammys and sh*t that's funny to me
Cause since the first take it's been about money to me
I'm just tryin' to get what diddy got doing what got biggie shot
They told me that I wasn't sh*t but left me in a litter box
Give it up and get a job
Uh get a job b**ch
I'm like the boss from the end of the nintendo game
My brain is on another level I can feel the devil's pain
Only address me by my reverend name the good doctor
The good author good brain in a good porsche
Dancin' drunk in dress pants like I'm a hunk
Backflip in a jacuzzi forty floors inside the trump
Front flip into this high yellow chinese b**ch's rump
Then she make me chicken broccoli for lunch
I roll a joint like a motumbo arm I'm high cousin
Every time I roll the dice it's five hundred
When I order wine it's nine hundred french chefs kneel before me
End of story take a shorty to the sortee
That's the bathroom you already know what happens there
I pull my swimming trunks down she suck me through the boxer
While I'm wearin' flip flops
Sh*t's real grip the wheel lift steel
That's it