Oldie Lyrics

by Earl Sweatshirt

yeah, fuck that
look, the contrast is a pair of lips
swallowin syrup and settin fires to sheriffs whip
fuckin all american terrorist
crushin rapper larynx to feed em a fuckin carrot stick
and me? i just spent a year ferrisin and
and i lost a little sanity to show you what hysterics is
spit to the lips meet the bottom of a barrel
so that sterile piss flow remind these niggas where embarrassed is
narrow, tight line, might impair him
since i made it back to fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type
pharoah fuckin pillow tear wearin pack of parasite
threw his own loofa off the roof after paradise
ladidadi back in here to fuck the party up
raiding fridges, tipping over vases with a tommy gun
never dollars, pop would make it rain hockey pucks
60 day chips from fuckin awesome anonymous
call him bloated til he show them that the flow deluxe
off the wall loafers, four loko, and a cobra clutch
vocals bold and rough, evoke a ho to pose his drum
let me hit him, hit it with a stick until the ho was numb
culprit of the potent punch
scolding hot as dunking scrotum in a folgers cup or nevada
driving drunk inside a stolen truck
shitting like his colon bust
belly full of chicken and a fifth of old petroleum
supernova, im rollin over the novices
im roamin through the forest and spittin cold as the porridge is
stay gold til the case closed and the story end
post mortem porkin this rap shit and record it
to escort it to the morgue again
lord of lips, bored of this
forklift the tippy top, best under 40 list
stormin the gate, whos sure in the base, scorching ladies
fortunately these motherfuckers soarin, torso and face
get at me with savages, have a pack of apache
indian pack of niggas who dont give a fuck if we nasty as flatulence
as a matter of fact, your swagger is tacky so see me you cant
like crunchy black cats in a taxi
back like lateral passing
with that motherfucking gladiator manner of rapping
as an addict i let percocets and xannies relax me
fall back if your paddies is maxi