[Verse 1:]
|
Gorgeous chrome-plated horse whip
|
Home-making paintings for poor quality porn flicks
|
Court adjourned and the verdict's still saucy
|
Sack swinging like Dub-D40 on a door hinge
|
Good lord, walk light like the floor slick
|
Look bored, hoard all mics in a force grip
|
Pro-abortion endorsing his own importance
|
Or leaving opponents floating with paper and dirty porcelain
|
Pinnacle of titillating crisp spit
|
Fist clinched emulating '68 Olympics
|
Rock it from the cradle 'til he middle aged and limp-sticked
|
Coughing from the stable probably indicating spliff's lit
|
Dismissed, feel it in that saturated cranium
|
Heavy as insurance off a spanking new laser gun
|
Crazy heart, hazy lung, making art, raking funds
|
Crowd going dumb like Palin's son
|
|
[Hook:]
|
And it always follows Autumn
|
No home for the weak
|
No insurance for your pride
|
Jive, nigga
|
And it always follows Autumn
|
|
[Verse 2:]
|
I sit in thought 'til the flow is right
|
Then throw some D on all available open mics
|
Smoke it right proposing these niggas over wipe
|
More because I normally toilet bowl with a broken pipe
|
Shit, the former soloist who flow was sick
|
The token sober kid stressed so the role was switched
|
Now Four Lokos down the hole and a loaded spliff
|
Look who's as useless as a broken wrist when tryna open shit
|
Nigga cold is what you need to keep the poultry in
|
Resulting in me rolling slick as bottom of the bowling kicks
|
Early man, you posers know me as the troll throwing
|
Moldy donut holes at your grody ho from his cronies' whip
|
Eating like the kids when you take 'em off Ritalin
|
Throwing temper tantrums at the window of your whip again
|
Sweeping up the glass to use it as a garnish over
|
Tracks damaged like the leg he limping to the barn with
|
Chickenshits
|
Temper 'bout as thick as tips of pencils is, missiles to the picket fence
|
Who spit as good fingerlickin' bitch bet, it's
|
36 fish netted like the hook was inefficient
|
|
[Hook]
|
|
-----------------
|
Hoarse
|
| Earl Sweatshirt |
