LYRICS
"Hive"(Feat.Vince Staples & Casey Veggies)
Promise Heron I'll put my fist up, after I get my d**k sucked
Quick buck, maybe a gold chain
With that ****ing flow that s-s-so belittles men
They tentatively tend to turn and go when I am finished
Stone cold, hardly ****ing with these niggas, ****in' listen
The description doesn't fit, if not a synonym of menace
Then forget it, in turn, these critics and interns
Admitting the shit spitted, just burn like six furnaces
Writ, it affixed, learning them digits
And simultaneously, dispelling one-trick-pony myths, isn't he?
One adolescent, ****ing six-figured energy
And crawling down 'Fax like a rich ****in' centipede
Crack ceramic and slap a hand out of cash account
Stamp and shouting, thra*******ng
These niggas done let the Kraken out
Crack-a-lacking, like snap, crackle, popping your ammo off
Hide your face, and throw your flannels off, Sweatshirt, ****in'
'87 roof top, Bronson
Whipping hoopties tryna boost raw chronic
(Brutus in that booth, double scoop, hock vomit up)
(Sub rocking, thud knocking niggas teeth loose)
Bruh, I don't **** with no cop (Rolling with that flow swamp)
Catch me over stove top (Rapping to that coke rock)
(Passionless in old Jive clothing, with them doors wide open)
(Dim the floor lights, focused) Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, ****in'
From a city that's recession-hit
With stress mother****ers could flex metal wit
Peddle to rake pennies in
Desolate testaments, trying to stay Jekyll-ish
But most mother****ers Hyde, and Brenda just stay pregnan
Breaking news: death's less important when the Lakers lose
It's lead in that baby food, heads try to make it through
Fish-netted legs for them eyes that she cater to
Ride dirty as the mother****ing sky that you praying t
So here I sit, eye in the pyramid
God spit it like it's truth serum in that beer and then
Disappear again, reappear bearded
On top of a lear, steering it into the kids' ear again
Provider of the backdrop music
For the crack rock user and the mascot Earl
Rawer than the skinned knee cap on the blacktop
Salivary glands, lighter fluid for the matchbox
Striking, wait, wait, who the **** you badder than
Boy, oh boy, I'm bad as burnt pollo off the grill and *******t
Spitter of the Little Nick, nimble, rickrolling
****ed up mother****ers pick litter, piff-blower, plus I pillage shi
'87 roof top, Bronson
Whipping hoopties tryna boost raw chronic
(Brutus in that booth, double scoop, hock vomit up)
(Sub rocking, thud knocking niggas teeth loose)
Bruh, I don't **** with no cop (Rolling with that flow swamp)
Catch me over stove top (Rapping to that coke rock)
(Passionless in old Jive clothing, with them doors wide open)
(Dim the floor lights, focused) Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, ****in'
Quit with all that tough talk, bruh
We know you mother****ers ain't about shi
Come around, we gun 'em down, bodies piled, Auschwitz
Bulletproof outfits, weapons concealed
I'm ready to kill, so test it, all my weapons is real
Selling thizz, couldn't tell him what the recipe is
Got 'em wi*******ng that they never gave these weapons to kids
Cheers, send chills up spines of fat mother****er
After shows throwing out sandwiches, mother****ers get i
How they live and I live for money, other words, I'm getting money
Little boy told me when it's time to ride, they'll send up for me
Ain't nobody scaring me, mother****ers ain't prepared for hea
Tools hit like pool sticks, the way I cue *******t
If this was '88, I would have signed to Ruthless
'94, would've had 'em walking down Death Row
First is when the best go, hate is what the rest do
Voice inside my head told me, "Wet 'em if they test you"
So it's Raging Waters season
That yomper big as Larry Johnson, leave your momma seedless
Everybody hard until it's only God they seeing
Kitten soft but in they songs be trapping hard as Jeezy
I don't believe it
But to each his own, I ain't tripping long as I can reach the chrome
Heat your home like Southern California Gas, police pass
Tell 'em "Free Smalls," off Palm with the heat drawn
Strapped up long as the chief for police armed
Raised where the beasts are, north of the Beach
A couple streets past Baby J, bony mother****ers spraying K'
Ruger with the pork face, Jewish for the court case
Here to save you mother****ers from the sorbet, Coldchai
Like it's nothing, cause it's nothing, mother****e
by og