Paroles de 45

Earl Sweatshirt

pochette album 45
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(verse 1)
Open up the case on 'em, set his own pace
Peeped the rats, wasn't racing with 'em
Made it out the maze
Haze with the stanky odor simmer down my brain
When i can't control it
Nigga, where your chips, you should bet 'em on him
Call the vet he barkin', hear him and the mess he started
Nigga they keep an eye on me, i am not a child artist
I raise the bar and hit a chin-up for a while on it
Like a long ride, my niggas up for it
My bitch is down for me cause i stay a buck-fifty
Angel city drought time, why the fuck i'm up fifty
Playing like i'm down five, they can't really fuck with me
Let a nigga sizzle in the pan if he wanna
Los angeles area annual summer, we burning under it
Learn from taking chances and fumbling
Nigga i was taught to take your rations and guzzle 'em, bitch

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