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lirik lagu vince staples & larry fisherman - sleep

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[verse 1: da$h]
catch me on a drunk night, throwing up a dirt bike
english dikes on the back and they screaming, “f-ck life!”
to be honest, only f-ck twice
my drug jacket got the thug stripes
i’m glad they hate me, they ain’t love christ or mike jordan either
dip my blunts in ether, chase the last name of aretha
when they hear me through the speakers
man these n-ggas know i mean it
the mannerisms of a g*nius, models down to seen it
the flow is scenic, the ho is black, the car is european
cream soda what we put the lean in
f-ck your team, your clique, whatever you banging
i come through blunt lit, bucket low, nuts hanging
like n-gga what? n-gga yawk! n-ggas know me
the f-cking dollar, crossed to the dark side so it’s f-ck obi ken0bi
you active, motherf-cker then show me
i tell your f-cking wife to blow me
n-gga, it’s still f-ck you (still f-ck you)

[verse 2: ab-soul]
yo, still searching for easter pink on easter sunday
black lip pastor herb done lit the herb and p-ssed it your way
master with the nouns and verbs, you haven’t heard the wordplay?
i’m the most def here, shouts to black dante
the stakes is high, who’d like to climb on my gate
live from the last name of kanye
i heard your whoop de whoop and blase blases
so when i cut you off consider kendrick lamar
you know it’s all in the family tree
the helix of my dna should read t-d-e, what can i say?
i left a acid tab for da$h on his dashboard
i hope he don’t crash trying to dash for it
your b-tch f-cking like, like i paid cash for it
motherf-cker, soul!

[verse 3: mac miller]
it’s young fisherman sinking in lake michigan
innocence, voice of an angel, so minnie riperton
getting lit exquisite b-tch, live from the wimbledon
still sinning as bill clinton, that’s ill pimping
she b-tt-naked swimming, i’m paying her no attention
workaholic, got a tv show, i know you seen the crib
nasty since a younging it’s unsanitary birth
watch this beat get buried in a he-rs-, yeah i k!ll myself
mac hippy -n-log, rap midi turn the cameras off
i made you snap, i’ll slap your bandana off
your b-tch greet me like i’m santa claus
mouth wide, i’m high as a satellite see
i’m in ancient greece getting head from aphrodite
mac is mighty, got a bunch of whities actin’ like me
i set the bar high, this a bizarre ride, word to pharcyde
in plaid pants, hit a hole in one on the par 5
eyes closed drinking whiskey, let the car drive
these hoes thirsty, see the d-ck and they large-eyed

[verse 4: vince staples]
never gave a dollar to the pastor
hoes can’t get inside my home without the p-ssword
my past worth was measured by those who got less then now
safe to say you motherf-ckers know you like my style
paved the way for they new found vision
now they mad at a n-gga, call me dad when you preaching boy
never one for tripping, find me full-speed sprinting
while they yelling coldchain
please tell me what it is and what it ain’t
n-ggas sniffling, catching feelings while i’m laughing to the bank
chasing b-tches that they’ll probably never get, what a shame
meanwhile i’ll be sitting in this critical acclaim
walking drowsy off a plane, drinking water in the rain
with your daughter trying to garnish her brain for future reference
i’m some sh-t you’ll never see in the game
and if i could i’d explain, but this right here’s the end


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