Bill

[Produced by Sweaty Fisherman]

And he’s still so delusional, stooping low as burials at funerals
F*** the fame, dropped an album, dipped with the recoupables
My hoodie up, hide my face, cause I ain’t good enough
My bitch stay my bitch, so don’t look, she keep that pussy tucked
Now things are looking up, recommend the mescaline
Digest in your intestines with intentions of ascension up
Heavens no, my head is hot cause hell is cold
The bitch I’m smashing into fashion
But I know the devil wear a leopard coat
Back when Johnny Carson was dicking down Dolly Parton
Bang your pardon this my third life, I’m parking on the turnpikes
Searching for the circus lights
These demons never worked for Christ
Ain’t fucking with no churches, we was all about that murder life
Samurai, murk you like you sure I’m nice
Syrup turn to purple Sprite, confirm the shit that we already know
Sick of politicking, as they talking, trying not to listen

I’m a real young goon, real young goon
I’m a real young goon, real young goon
I’m a real young goon, real young goon
I’m a real young goon

[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
It’s the blackest piece of trash they done seen in a RV park
So holla at your guala if ever you feel your weed sparse, nigga
Salty to tee off with us, just know that T brought villain
My nigga we all itching to see you dropped
And I don’t wanna chop it up, I never front like I’m the nicest
Fame fazed him not the slightest, aim stainless at your iris
Take paper out your pocket, just as sure as Toyo tires round
That fucking little schisty clown is back in full effect
Little teeny tiny Sweat, he biting bitches by the neck
Got my fucking dick as long as lists of shit I should regret
I’m just a little bit depressed that’s why the winter fit him best
I guess I’m biased to the cold, I mix the Ritalin and sess
Because I like the highs and lows and I also like the checks
That I’m siphoning from shows, bitch and triple six the set
(Six-six-six the set) run it back, tight as Corey Duffel pants
Doing niggas dirty as the motherfucking plunging cap
My main and my ex screaming like it’s a habit
I move immune in between ‘em because I’m diplomatic
Catch me in your city passive, cleaning up my shitty act
And bitches say them gritty raps be making up for shit he lacking
Sixes and them kitty cats, that got him missing Jerry’s Thomas
Burpin’ words that’s hotter than the pocket where he carry chronic
Very awesome so spare the comments, I’m bi-coastal
Paid and chugging forties you niggas can keep your wine toasted
Noon high, no moving in that fine dutty wine motion
Loaded, tell a cop to suck a dick with my fly open, nigga

I got candy for niggas
I got panties for niggas
What’s good? Uh, yeah
Holla at me
2013 shit, y’gnaw’mean?
Bought a nigga a purse, I don’t give a fuck
What? Bitch
Yeah, uh, bitch

[Verse 3: Bill]
Look, fuck these writtens, I don’t watch 106 and Park
I skate through the park in my 106’s
Smoke blunts in the dark with some porno bitches
You just see the spark in the blunts like I’m porno flicking
Got the hormones tripping, I’m more so dripping
Daily Bread’s tatted on the chest of my torso
And it’s never gonna fade unlike my eyes
So I go trip like Psilocybin, eyes wider than Ohio
I’m going global, what you ain’t a local?
Going postal if you think we won’t go
Through what you own, dude
Watch the throne motherfucker, cause we molded you
Older school Most Dope soldier I got the pro with tools
Me and Clockwork get it in like we’re supposed to
Just don’t act like you know us
When you see us getting over views
You’re older news, I choose to move over you
I watch like a boulder, now I’m colder than a frozen you
You don’t know where we’re going so just hold the news
I never got over fake rappers and the overview
I’m not a rapper, I’m just scolding you
So go home, we folded you, like wallets, I’m just holding you

You can’t see me, when I’m rolling
I got that weed nigga, so I’m swerving
Niggas know me in the hood
Niggas call me Tina Turner
Roll a blunt and get turnt up
Nigga we burnin, bitch nigga