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I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside


Genres: Hip-Hop
Total songs: 9
Year: 2015

Am // Radio Lyrics - I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside - Earl Sweatshirt

Nineteen, still gettin' kicked out the crib 

Ripped off my bib, spit out my food, hiccup and piss 

Urine burnin', I could smell the liquor in this 

Cats always tryna' pick up the fist 

"Duff this dude out" 

Rappers stoop just to get to your crib 

Now it's like bruised face, loose walk, too sauced 

Distraught thoughts on my corpse on the asphalt 

Back when I'd slack off, rock my slacks of my ass half-off 

Every time I rap I blast-off 

Back when I catch court I always had sports 

Dippin' on cops in my track shorts 

So tell my mom I had to make it right 

I lie every night about the lime-light so I could lie at night 

And tell my pops I gotta' take advice 

Keep my head screwed on tight, abuse these mics 

See me, I'm the contusion type 

A cat to smack the mic 

Against my fuckin' head when I'm losing hype 

RATKING, never losing hype, no 

It's RATKING and I do it right, no 

RATKING, yeah, I do it nice, woah 

 

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Bitch, I skated before I rapped 

If you take me before your captain 

Bet twenty hots on your daddy 

That someone could Noila Clap em' 

Probably cold and passive 

Cause pops was the one that got to me 

Feeling down like he passed it 

And when I'm cornered, it's action 

I was kinda' out the game 

Momma put the quarter right back in the slot 

In 09', we took the 7 to the Dussy 17 to the block 

Bitch, if yo' nigga had Supreme, we was the reason he copped it 

And nowadays I'm on the hunt for mirrors to box with 

And some pretty bitches that ain't trip if it's a hit and run 

I got the gold cause I don't do the crying, bro 

She Mario, I'm tryna' keep the whining to a minimum 

Piggies come, bet I'm splittin' quicker than I finish rum 

Find me some Indica 

Nuggets on my fingers and my shirt like they was chicken crumbs 

The room spinnin', finna' yak if I don't hit the blunt 

Got the chin wagon, slim chances of me getting up 

After this 

Mind in the trash next to where my fuckin' passion went 

Dodge fanatics, half-a-Xanax when I'm traveling six hours or more 

Brick out on the tour, got kicked out of the morgue 

Spit cattle manure shit, shit, rally the Horsemen 

Tally the corpses 

 

Photos 

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