Lyrics Wool - Earl Sweatshirt , Vince Staples
Yeah,
yeah,
yeah
Soon
as
I
catch
the
vibe
tell
′em
to
fetch
the
hearse
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)
Nigga,
I
don′t
do
that
Niggas
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
shit,
I'm
tryna
make
a
million
dollars
Keep
it
hood
while
crossing
over
on
some
A.I.
shit
I
need
a
foreign
baby
momma
to
match
a
nigga
model
whip
Ramona
Park
made
me
from
scratch
A
lot
of
lotto
picks
lost
inside
this
game
called
rap
I
be
the
underdog
Bullet
hit
his
forehead,
it
exit
out
his
under
arm
Ain′t
nobody
bigger
than
my
hood,
my
nigga,
fuck
a
boss
Baby-mama
killer,
you
offended,
and
I
fuck
her
raw
Stretchy
doing
federal
time
for
busting
at
the
law
And
he
gonna
be
a
neighbor
of
mine,
you
play
me
for
a
pawn
Shawty,
I
be
swimming
with
sharks,
your
posse
full
of
prawns
Pistols
rip
his
body
apart,
now
he
afraid
of
dark
alleyways
Niggas
better
listen
when
the
pastor
say
Ugh,
hold
on,
hold
on,
let
me
hear
me
that
Ugh,
hold
on,
hold
on,
ugh
Ugh,
hold
on,
hold
on,
ugh
It's
Golf
on
that-,
bitch,
it's
Golf
on
that
ball
cap
I
guzzle
the
tall
boy,
Jehovah
ain′t
call
back
And
y′all
still
debating
over
Earl
music
Troops
got
the
group
nationwide
moving
merch
units
crazy
Peanut
butter
to
paisley,
walking
down
the
street
In
the
different
color
McGrady's,
that
first
grader
was
me
Now
my
fist
full
of
spliffs
and
the
old
banker
receipts
Bitches
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
momma
I
been
limiting
my
features,
filling
swishers
up
with
reefer
Bitch,
it's
difficult
to
beat
him
like
a
soft
dick
Golf
clique
deep,
and
we
don′t
hit
the
streets
passive
That
nigga
Sweaty
got
the
gas
and
Shreddy
K
brought
the
matches
Pitch
your
body
in
the
water
like
a
Lipton
teabag
and
then
Switch
to
different
fucking
whip
to
let
them
piggies
speed
past
him
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
niggas
skip
to
me
Niggas
want
to
fade
me,
bitches
feel
some
type
of
way
for
me
50's
in
my
pocket
falling
out
like
fucking
baby
teeth
Vince
be
with
the
rocket,
he
gone
pop
it
when
it′s
danger
round
Fingertips
to
tapers,
now,
salute
us
when
you
face
us
Give
a
fuck
about
the
moves
all
these
loser
niggas
making
now
![Earl Sweatshirt feat. Vince Staples - I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside: An Album by Earl Sweatshirt](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/h/t/x/z/QmDfWDzXTH.jpg)
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