El Toro Combo Meal

Earl Sweatshirt

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    Man
    Lost my dawg to the staircase, took the highest spot on the podium
    Ghostin' niggas, probably smokin' to the thought of knowin' us
    They loss a part of growin' up
    Spurned us, learned I had to keep a wedge to get out of the rough
    Fuses clipped for nuisance, disrespect 'cause we carried enough
    I promised I'd bury the grudge, preparing the carrion grub
    Larry Oops, I was lost in the alley, in the air but not sunk
    I spun 'til the lost of my grandmama buried the dunk
    Send 'bout a prayer a month, through the above
    Niggas moody but imbued with the funk
    Better shit to do than play with food
    The rhyming Rubik's for fun
    But I do what I want, ayy
    And I rue what it was later, a looter as such
    Confusingly up with paper
    I'm shootin' ones with the judge if he sentence my brother
    Been with him, muzzled us from the cradle
    So we goin' to the grave with this shit
    If we join the second line
    The ancestors'll hand us a drum to load the second time
    Somethin' scary 'bout airin' out the shit I compressed
    The fare gettin' fairer now, the cost is
    An arm, leg, an arm, leg, and a head
    In all bread, the conquest for text, I'm pawnin' the rest
    My Bompton partner spawn when donning the red
    I'm all on they neck 'til my car park is pardoning French
    Spar with a few niggas, sparkin' at the larger percentage
    What's alternate when the losses come as often as wins?
    And imposter clique thick
    Don't got a job, I only ball off pick-six
    I'm fraught with friction, in July, we had shit lit as Christmas
    Hollins been sensed niggas been lyin', but we ain't gon' mention
    Boo hit the stu' and started sweating', told her this the kitchen
    You knew the rules
    And we knew how to shoot the loopholes, jugo, beaucoup loot
    And my kin and 'nem got the cannon, you gon' juke or boogaloo?
    I been spinnin' around the answer
    Non-definitive, I just crammed it
    Outward gifted, inward feel damned
    I took my lumps, my bruises, grooves
    What the fuck are you to do?

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    Every time a nigga didn't spot me
    I had to figure out my own thing
    Now we at the precipice droppin'
    Harry Potter with the Dub-D's
    Magic hands, nigga, what cheese?
    Had a chance, didn't crush me
    We gon' get it by all means
    Rest in peace to my Ras G
    Raw Fruit in the box, seeds
    Let go, then I got wings
    I'm seein' red, I'ma charge
    You seein' red 'cause you salty
    I keep the tears out my mind reach
    I put my fears in a box like a prayer that you won't read
    Spirited Away the whole thing
    Peerin' away, I won't leave
    See you starin' into old beefs
    Ticket booths where they told me
    Thickest thorns on the roses
    Pistons roarin' like I'm Rasheed
    Pistons roarin' like I'm Ben Wallace
    Pistons roarin' like Chauncey
    Fill up somethin' 'cause I been drivin'
    Every time a nigga didn't spot me
    I had to figure out my own thing
    Now we at the precipice droppin'

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Earl Sweatshirt, Do More y Omavi Minder

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