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• Artiste: Earl Sweatshirt
• Titre: Azucar
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Petal to the metal, lost flint, it was sugar in my gas tank My cushion was a bosom on bad days There's not a black woman I can't thank You called crying when I told you these the last days It's all mine, could have split the last plate Niggas didn't have faith, so I stopped trying I apologies, and we outta time Please get ya alibis straight, you ain't gotta lie It's a tradition did it my way No sense of looking at the sky Trace elements meddle with minds Mind-state live fizzes and fires Niggas with live ammunitions in the stick on the highway I only get better with time That's what my mom say, the doc' say, he to kill him this time Well here I go, foot on the line What's mine, what good is it if it's not, you sick of it Sicky, sicky, niggas wasn't shit Face looking like I stumbled out of bed, hundred dollar jet I piss problems out the bottom Empty mama said she used to see my father in me I said I was not offended Press can navy med, like on the bed Living life like a nigga put a price on my head Bless, this how we on it If you need it and I want it better come prepared Going it through it like prayers in the night sky You look like a chair when you floating up Hands on like a goalie with the puck, don't need any luck See the goal so where I was, lonesome as I was