Something sinister to it
A pendulum swinging slow
A degenerate moving
Through the city with criminal stealth
Welcome to enemy turf
Harder than immigrants work
“Golf” is stitched into my shirt
Get up off the pavement
Brush the dirt up off my psyche
Psyche, psyche

(Can I get that, oh)
(Let me get that beat in my headphones)
(Louder)

It’s probably been twelve years since my father left
Left me fatherless
And I just used to say I hate him in dishonest jest
When honestly I miss this nigga
Like when I was six
And every time I got the chance to say it
I would swallow it
Sixteen, I’m hollow, intolerant, skipped shots
I storm that whole bottle
I’ll show you a role model
Drunk, pissy pissing on somebody front lawn
Trying to figure out
How and when the fuck I missed moderate
Momma often was offering peace offerings
Think, wheeze cough, scoffing and he’s off again
Searching for a big brother, Tyler was that
Plus he liked how I rap
The blunted mice in the trap
Too Black for the White kids and too White for the Blacks
From honor roll to cracking locks up off them bicycle racks
I’m indecisive, I’m scatterbrained and I’m frightened, it’s evident
And them eyes where he hiding all them icicles at

Something sinister to it
A pendulum swinging slow
A degenerate moving
Through the city with criminal stealth
Welcome to enemy turf
Harder than immigrants work
“Golf” is stitched into my shirt
Get up off the pavement
Brush the dirt up off my psyche
Psyche, psyche

(Can I get that, oh)
(Let me get that beat in my headphones)
(Louder)

Time lapse, bars rotten, heart’s bottomless pit
Was mobbin' deep as '96 Havoc and Prodigy did
We were the potty-mouth posse, crash the party and dip
With all belongings, then toss 'em out to the audience
Nothing was fucking awesome, trying to make it from the bottom of Syd’s
Feeling as hard as Vince Carter’s knee cartilage is
Supreme garment and weed gardeners garnishing spliffs
With Keef particles and entering apartments with 'zine article
Tolerance through boundaries, I know you happy now
Craven and these Complex fuck niggas that track me down
Just to be the guys that did it, like I like attention
Not the type where niggas trying to get a raise at my expense
Supposed to be grateful, right, like thanks so much, you made my life
Harder and the ties between my mom and I are strained and tightened
Even more than they were before all of this shit
Been back a week and I already feel like calling it quits

Something sinister to it
A pendulum swinging slow
A degenerate moving
Through the city with criminal stealth
Welcome to enemy turf
Harder than immigrants work
“Golf” is stitched into my shirt
Get up off the pavement
Brush the dirt up off my psyche
Psyche, psyche

(Can I get that, oh)
(Let me get that beat in my headphones)
(Louder)

More lyrics from Earl Sweatshirt

Tags
hip-hoprap

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