Look lyrics

by

Earl Sweatshirt


[Intro: Tyler, The Creator]
It's the f*cking AAAAHHH!!!
Yell, I came too hard on it. I came way too hard on that. I'mma be scaring kids and sh*t. Lemme, lemme tone that down, I’m sorry

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
It's the f*cking general, Vans, cut shorts
Neck covered in colored emeralds, the yellow by the blue
Look like I p*ssed inside your swimming pool, I'm Mr. Made-A-Bundle
f*ck being a rapper and lyrical, here's a ticket to carnival
Barnacles! Now, I gotta brag
Bimmer drive right bi you n*ggas like I was kinda fag
With a paint job that's flatter than Miley Cyrus' ass
Ludicrous n*ggas is hoping that rapper Tyler crash
I see a victim, call the f*cking doctors
I'm starting to see symptoms, faggot getting sick again
f*cker get a syringe and a prayer from all your friends
That are actors that do not have to pretend with me if they see blood
Cuz, red and blue like what the f*ck's popping?
I'm the blackface with white America, a noose in my pocket
Everyone's dumb or either dead, so you do not have an option
So I'm sorry, Martian, and activist I'm 'bout to tie knots with
And ain't no one gon' stop sh*t, I'd rather find my pops
Locking lips with a hot locksmith, find out I was adopted
By chimps and a hippopotamus, Tyler's a f*cking animal
When he spit, he goes ape sh*t, so it technically makes sense
[Verse 2: Hodgy Beats]
Nobody ever told me that I spill more than I drink
I didn’t know that, I didn’t know that I didn’t know
Al-Anon meetings meeting and greeting boy fickle
Cuc*mber turn pickle, n*gga, nickel by my cellular sickle
Exchange phrases from heroin addicts pistol arms
n*ggas go to the drug dealer like Bristol farm, when it get it, it's gone
Seated next to Chunky's hands fidget marmoset monkeys
This ain’t where I’m supposed to be at, how am I supposed to react
When somebody here test my nervous, I’m clean and sober
And still got a lot on my mind that I’m getting over only getting older
Snow and slush is colder, love don’t get you on the bus
Free rides are in the Rover where teardrops wet on my shoulder
Started hitting bars whiskey style sh*t
You know a young n*gga always finding new outlets
Mentally I’m just crowded, but sh*t I guess it’s time to change my outfit

[Verse 3: Domo Genesis]
Live from the gutter, young stunner trumps what you n*ggas blundered
I uppercut 'em by the bundle, n*gga take a number
I'm bout my butter, never let them suckers take me under
Cold like I hate the summer? You ungrateful son of a b*tch
I gave less a f*ck and I struck it rich, suck my di*k
Tell the world that I’m coming, don’t f*cking spit
Bump your lips, guess you really ain’t sure who you f*cking with
You won’t find me on no office sh*t I’m semi-auto off this sh*t
My whole approach is arsonic no party be cautious
With my partners on some raunchy sh*t, you better use your conscience quick
I swear my whole demeanor all f*cked up
sh*tting everywhere like I had a meal off the lunch truck
Dumb f*ck come one one it and get your mug bucked
Love what? No love for these hoes we only love lust
Inhale that marijuana until my lungs bust
Still out for blood when the suns up
[Verse 4: Earl Sweatshirt]
f*ck what you been talking 'bout, n*gga, got a toddler reputation
Just from chalking out n*ggas and bagging 'em up
di*kies baggy, sagging off my ass, abandoned the cuffs
And Wang syndicates the color of the ambulance trucks
Blunt got a n*gga feeling like I'm standing on my head
Wolf pack back up out the shed, foaming at the mouth
Got these b*tches lip-locking, britches soggy on the couch
Talking sh*t, bringing profit in and bodies in to count
I told myself just to walk and let the rumours run
Blue golf overalls, jump when them Goombas come
This the f*cking sound of chickens coming home and roosting up
The rudest one, make a n*gga take a n*gga jewels and run
Hand full of cash, other hand full of homes to feed
Who exactly am I supposed to please?
And n*gga, who the f*ck you supposed to be? Four-five traffic blasting
Tyler p*ssy cause I'm ashing on his momma Rover seat
Beeline to the substance, impair the judgment
Sticking to the script, thumb sticking to that pump grip
Wolf Gang n*gga
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