Album: Doris (2012)
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  • Something sinister to it
    Pendulum swinging slow, a degenerate moving
    Through the city with criminals, 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 louder?
    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, skip shots
    I storm that whole bottle, I'll show you a role model
    I'm 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
    And 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
    Pendulum swinging slow, a degenerate moving
    Through the city with criminals, 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 louder?
    Let me get that beat in my headphones louder"

    Uh, time lapse, bars rot in heart's bottomless pit
    Was mobbin' deep as '96 Havoc and Prodigy did
    We were the pottymouth 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
    His sins 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 for boundaries, I know you happy now
    Craven and these Complex fuck niggas that tracked 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
    Pendulum swinging slow, a degenerate moving
    Through the city with criminals, 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 louder?
    Let me get that beat in my headphones louder" Writer/s: Charles Edward Hugo, Kehinde Hassan, Taiwo Hassan, Thebe Kgositsile
    Publisher: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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