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wool - earl sweatshirt lyrics

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[intro: vince staples]
yeah, yeah, yeah

[verse 1: vince staples]
soon as i catch the vibe tell ’em to fetch the he-rs-
shorty i’m pressin’ lines lifting the lauren shirt
tell her to bless the girth if she with it
i’m in that kitchen, wrist water whippin’ work
(psych!) n-gg-, i don’t do that
n-gg-s get bloop-blapped and blown away
wessons making mexicans wetbacks like “órale!”
okay, i’m on to something
momma should’ve told you it’d be days like this
it’s just a tale from the crip
i’m on my séance sh-t, i’m tryna’ make a million dollars
keep it hood while crossing over on some a.i. sh-t
i need a foreign baby momma to match a n-gg- model whip
ramona park made me from scratch, a lot of lotto picks lost
inside this game we call rap, i be the underdog
bullet hit his forehead, it exit out his under arm
ain’t n-body bigger than my hood, my n-gg-, f-ck a boss
baby momma k!ller, you offended and i f-ck her raw
stretchy doin’ federal time for bustin’ at the law
and he gonna be a neighbor of mine, you play me for a p-wn
shorty i be swimmin’ with sharks, your posse full of prawns
pistols rip his body apart, now he afraid of dark alleyways
n-gg-s better listen when the pastor say

[verse 2: earl sweatshirt]
it’s golf on that—b-tch, it’s golf on that ball cap
i guzzle the tall boy, jehovah ain’t call back
and ya’ll still debating over earl music
troops got the group nationwide moving merch units crazy
peanut b-tter to paisley, walking down the street
in the different color mcgradys, that first grader was me
now my fist full of spliffs and the old banker receipts
b-tches grip the stick and jerky like cold shanks of the beef, dry
i’m taking purses like they chances in the evening
pick your pants up, boy, you dancing with a demon
on my mama i been limiting my features, filling swishers up with reefer
b-tch, it’s difficult to beat him like a soft d-ck
golf clique deep and we don’t hit the streets p-ssive
that n-gg- sweaty got the gas and shreddy k brought the matches
pitch your body in the water like a lipton tea bag and then
switch to a different f-ckin whip to let them piggies speed past ’em
it’s the rats, try and get the cheese
what it do? rap like i’m mincing meat
call me lou, if i’m on the track, these n-gg-s skip to me
n-gg-s want to fade me, b-tches feel some type of way for me
50s in my pocket falling out like f-cking baby teeth
vince be with the rocket, he gon pop it when it’s danger round
fingertips to tapers now, salute us when you face us
give a f-ck about the moves all these loser n-gg-s making now

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