Oldie - Earl Sweatshirt Lyrics
By: Admin | Artist: E earl sweatshirt | Published: 2024-22-09T16:41:59:00+07:00Lirikku.ID - Oldie - Earl Sweatshirt Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Oldie - Earl Sweatshirt Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton E earl sweatshirt. Dengan chord yang disajikan, pemula atau penggemar musik dapat dengan mudah memainkan lagu ini dengan gitar mereka sendiri. Kami menyajikan chord dengan akurasi tinggi sehingga pemain dapat mengikuti alunan musiknya dengan baik. Juga, kami akan memberikan informasi tambahan mengenai lirik lagu dan mungkin beberapa tips untuk menyempurnakan permainan gitar. Konten ini cocok untuk penggemar musik yang ingin belajar lagu baru atau bagi mereka yang ingin menikmati kesenangan bermain musik dengan gitar. Silahkan disimak Oldie - Earl Sweatshirt Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.
yeah, f-ck that
look, the contrast is a pair of lips
swallowin’ syrup and settin’ fires to sheriffs whip
f-ckin’ all american terrorist
crushin’ rapper larynx to feed ’em a f-ckin’ 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 p-ss flow remind these n-gg-s where embarr-ssed is
narrow, tight line, might impair him
since i made it back to fahrenheit, grimey get dinero type
pharoah f-ckin’ pillow tear wearin’ pack of parasite
threw his own loofa off the roof after paradise
ladidadi back in here to f-ck 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 f-ckin’ 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 scr-t-m in a folgers cup – or nevada
driving drunk inside a stolen truck
sh-tting like his colon bust
belly full of chicken and a fifth of old petroleum
supernova, i’m rollin’ over the novices
i’m 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 sh-t 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, who’s sure in the base, scorching ladies
fortunately these motherf-ckers soarin’, torso and face
get at me with savages, have a pack of apache
indian pack of n-gg-s who don’t give a f-ck if we nasty as flatulence
as a matter of fact, your swagger is tacky so see me you can’t
like crunchy black cats in a taxi
back like lateral p-ssing
with that motherf-cking gladiator manner of rapping
as an addict i let percocets and xannies relax me
fall back if your paddies is maxi
please
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