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Earl Sweatshirt Lyrics
Nineteen, still gettin' kicked out the crib
Ripped off my bib, spit out my food, hiccup and piss
Urine burnin', I could smell the liquor in this
Cats always tryna' pick up the fist
Duff this dude out
Rappers stoop just to get to your crib
Now it's like who's face? who's warped? too sauced
Distort thoughts, on my corpse on the asphalt
Back when I'd slack more, rock my slacks or my ass
Everytime, I rap I blast-off
Dippin' on cops in my track shorts
So tell my mom I ahad to make it right
I lie every night about the lime-light so I could lie at night
And tell my Pops' I gotta' take advice
Keep my head screwed on tight, abuse these mics
See me, I'm the contusion type
A cat to smack a mic and catch my fuckin' hair when I'm losing height
Ratking, never losing hype, no
It's Ratking and I do it right
Ratking, yeah, I do it nice, woah
Bitch, I skated before I rapped it
You'd take me before your captain
Bet twenty hots on your Daddy
To someone go Nolia Clap them, probably cold and passive
Cause' Pops' was the one that got to me
Feeling down like he passed it and when I'm cornered, it's action
I was kinda' out the game, I'ma put the quarter right back in the slot
In 09', we took the 7 to the Dussy 17 to the block
Bitch, if yo' nigga had Supreme, we was the reason he copped it
And nowadays, I'm on a hustle lyrics to box with
And some pretty bitches that ain't trip if it's a hit and run
I got to go cause' I don't do the crying bro
She Mario, I'm tryna' keep the whining to a minimum
Piggies come, bet I'm splittin' quicker than I finish rum
Find me some Indica, nuggets on my fingers and my shirt like they was chicken crumbs
The room spinnin', finna' yak if I don't hit the blunt
Got the chin wagon, slim chances of me getting up
After this, mind in the trash next to where my fuckin' passion went
Doc's fanatics, half-a-Xanax when I'm traveling six hours or more
Brick out on the tour, got kicked out of the morgue
Spit cattle manure shit, shit, rally the Horsemen
Tally the corpses
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing
Written by: Patrick G. Morales, Thebe Kgositsile, Miles Khalil
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
To comment on specific lyrics, highlight them
Earl Sweatshirt (born Thebe Neruda Kgositsile on February 24, 1994) is an American rapper. He released his debut mixtape, EARL, as a free digital download on the OFWGKTA website at sixteen years-old, with the help of founding OFWGKTA member Tyler, the Creator. His debut studio album, Doris, was released in 2013 to widespread critical acclaim. He followed this release up with his second album, I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside: An Album by Earl Sweatshirt, in 2015 to an equal amount of acclaim. Read Full BioEarl Sweatshirt (born Thebe Neruda Kgositsile on February 24, 1994) is an American rapper. He released his debut mixtape, EARL, as a free digital download on the OFWGKTA website at sixteen years-old, with the help of founding OFWGKTA member Tyler, the Creator. His debut studio album, Doris, was released in 2013 to widespread critical acclaim. He followed this release up with his second album, I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside: An Album by Earl Sweatshirt, in 2015 to an equal amount of acclaim. In 2018, he released his third studio album, Some Rap Songs, which was his last album with Columbia; following it up with the EP Feet of Clay in 2019 on Warner Records. His latest album, Sick!, was released in 2022, also on Warner Records.
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ciro
Nineteen, still gettin' kicked out the crib
Ripped off my bib, spit out my food, hiccup and piss
Urine burnin', I could smell the liquor in this
Cats always tryna' pick up the fist—"Duff this dude out"
Rappers stoop just to get to your crib
Now it's like bruised face, loose walk, too sauced
Distraught thoughts on my corpse on the asphalt
Back when I’d slack off, rock my slacks of my ass half-off
Every time I rap I blast-off
Back when I catch court I always had sports
Dippin' on cops in my track shorts
So tell my mom I had to make it right
I lie every night about the lime-light so I could lie at night
And tell my pops I gotta take advice
Keep my head screwed on tight, abuse these mics
See me, I’m the contusion type
A cat to smack the mic Against my fuckin' head when I'm losing hype
RATKING, never losing hype, no
Smack king and I do it right, no
RATKING, yeah, I do it nice, woah
Bitch, I skated before I rapped
If you take me before your captain, bet 20 hots on your daddy
That someone could Noila Clap 'em, probably cold and passive
Cause pops was the one that got to me, feeling down like he passed it
And when I'm cornered, it's action, I was kinda out the game
Momma put the quarter right back in the slot
In '09, we took the 7 to the Dussy 17 to the block
Bitch, if yo' nigga had Supreme, we was the reason he copped it
And nowadays I'm on the hunt for mirrors to box with
And some pretty bitches that ain't trip if it's a hit and run
I got the gold cause I don't do the crying, bro
She Mario, I'm tryna keep the whining to a minimum
Piggies come, bet I'm splittin' quicker than I finish rum
Find me some Indica, nuggets on my fingers And my shirt like they was chicken crumbs
The room spinnin', finna yak if I don't hit the blunt
Got the chin waggin', slim chances of me getting up
After this, mind in the trash next to where my fuckin' passion went
Dodge fanatics, half-a-Xanax when I'm traveling
Six hours or more, brick out on the tour
Got kicked out of the morgue, spit cattle manure shit
Shit, rally the Horsemen, tally the corpses
K01clrkK™
[Verse 1: Wiki]
Nineteen, still gettin' kicked out the crib
Ripped off my bib, spit out my food, hiccup and piss
Urine burnin', I could smell the liquor in this
Cats always tryna' pick up the fist—"Duff this dude out"
Rappers stoop just to get to your crib
Now it's like bruised face, loose walk, too sauced
Distraught thoughts on my corpse on the asphalt
Back when I’d slack off, rock my slacks of my ass half-off
Every time I rap I blast-off
Back when I catch court I always had sports
Dippin' on cops in my track shorts
So tell my mom I had to make it right
I lie every night about the lime-light so I could lie at night
And tell my pops I gotta take advice
Keep my head screwed on tight, abuse these mics
See me, I’m the contusion type
A cat to smack the mic
Against my fuckin' head when I'm losing hype
RATKING, never losing hype, no
Smack king and I do it right, no
RATKING, yeah, I do it nice, woah
[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
Bitch, I skated before I rapped
If you take me before your captain, bet 20 hots on your daddy
That someone could Noila Clap 'em
Probably cold and passive
Cause Pops was the one that got to me
Feeling down like he passed it
And when I'm cornered, it's action, I was kinda out the game
Momma put the quarter right back in the slot
In '09, we took the 7 to the Dussy 17 to the block
Bitch, if yo' nigga had Supreme, we was the reason he copped it
And nowadays I'm on the hunt for mirrors to box with
And some pretty bitches that ain't trip if it's a hit and run
I got the gold cause I don't do the crying, bro
She Mario, I'm tryna keep the whining to a minimum
Piggies come, bet I'm splittin' quicker than I finish rum
Find me some Indica, nuggets on my fingers
And my shirt like they was chicken crumbs
The room spinnin', finna yak if I don't hit the blunt
Got the chin waggin', slim chances of me getting up after this
Mind in the trash next to where my fuckin' passion went
Dodge fanatics, half-a-Xanax when I'm traveling
Six hours or more, brick out on the tour
Got kicked out of the morgue, spit cattle manure shit
Shit, rally the Horsemen, tally the corpses
Giselle Perez
Nineteen, still gettin' kicked out the crib
Ripped off my bib, spit out my food, hiccup and piss
Urine burnin', I could smell the liquor in this
Cats always tryna' pick up the fist
Duff this dude out
Rappers stoop just to get to your crib
Now it's like who's face? who's warped? too sauced
Distort thoughts, on my corpse on the asphalt
Back when I'd slack more, rock my slacks or my ass
Everytime, I rap I blast-off
Back when I catch Cor', I always had sports
Dippin' on cops in my track shorts
So tell my mom I ahad to make it right
I lie every night about the lime-light so I could lie at night
And tell my Pops' I gotta' take advice
Keep my head screwed on tight, abuse these mics
See me, I'm the contusion type
A cat to smack a mic and catch my fuckin' hair when I'm losing height
Ratking, never losing hype, no
It's Ratking and I do it right
Ratking, yeah, I do it nice, woah
Bitch, I skated before I rapped it
You'd take me before your captain
Bet twenty hots on your Daddy
To someone go Nolia Clap them, probably cold and passive
Cause' Pops' was the one that got to me
Feeling down like he passed it and when I'm cornered, it's action
I was kinda' out the game, I'ma put the quarter right back in the slot
In 09', we took the 7 to the Dussy 17 to the block
Bitch, if yo' nigga had Supreme, we was the reason he copped it
And nowadays, I'm on a hustle lyrics to box with
And some pretty bitches that ain't trip if it's a hit and run
I got to go cause' I don't do the crying bro
She Mario, I'm tryna' keep the whining to a minimum
Piggies come, bet I'm splittin' quicker than I finish rum
Find me some Indica, nuggets on my fingers and my shirt like they was chicken crumbs
The room spinnin', finna' yak if I don't hit the blunt
Got the chin wagon, slim chances of me getting up
After this, mind in the trash next to where my fuckin' passion went
Doc's fanatics, half-a-Xanax when I'm traveling six hours or more
Brick out on the tour, got kicked out of the morgue
Spit cattle manure shit, shit, rally the Horsemen
Tally the corpses
LilHongBoot
I love how Earl raps wikis verse at concerts.
Real recognize real.
LilHongBoot
@UzaBish bruh ikr
UzaBish
@LilHongBoot smh wiki fans
LilHongBoot
@Viking Ship 2021 ikr
Viking Ship 2021
@LilHongBoot smh wiki fans
Keegan R
earl and wiki compliment eachothers styles nicely
t millz
Earl and wiki go together like magnets
YUTE
@You Tube lmao
Samuel
@You Tube the irony
martin
@StuffbyAaron he's half puerto rican