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Correct Guild Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: E
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Earl Sweatshirt
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Correct Guild
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Lyrics:
[Verse 1: Mac Miller] Said this a hit of liquid heroin Marilyn Manson channeling Panicking, spar with Anakin 'til one of us leave in an ambulance Blow the smoke of the spliff in your eyes You ain't gon' live 'til you die Intelligent bitch on my side She bitching I'm spitting habitual lies I hit her up when my jet land Got a swisher tucked in my headband Front page news, I'm young Jesus Eating bagels with no cable on Been fucking hoes since when Mase was on I hope that Based God hear my prayers One day you're here, the next day you're gone So me and Earl smoking weed on Jay Z's lawn Some dope rap on your ho ass, Tony Womack Don't hold back, no, feed your girl Cognac Meet a bitch, sleeping wit her, feverish, diva chick Met her off Twitter even Schindler keeps a list Pittsburgh, broke down somewhere in a Fisker I could pull your bitch with a whisper and diss her Dumbass ho She only dumb cause she love that though Somewhere getting high reading Juxtapoz I hit her up she come through and watch Adjustment Bureau ("That's a good movie!") Moms love me cause I'm so commercial I fuck 'em raw cause I know they fertile In Myrtle Beach with a purple fleece Hotel lobbies playing Für Elise I'm Ron Burgundy mixed with Hercules Slap a bitch in the mouth if she curse at me ("Ow!") I said Josh's beard is like Paul Revere When he walk in the room it's like God is here I'm at a prop shop in Montauk throwing tomohawks At civilians... I'm chilling [Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt] I'm on the monitor nigga She taking it like a champ and I'm proud of her, nigga I'm on the couch where that loud is burning I'm shouting, "I don't fuck with you" cause I don't Never love a ho But we could play doctor, ma, open wide for thermometer Your cowgirl's crotch riding with a clean, faded fro, lopsided Tell the label that I want a white driver And tell him give me space, I don't know that nigga Bold-ass little fuckin' low-class villian Whole van tinted, nope can't kill him It's the Trashwang nigga, that's what's up Half pint of hope in that plastic cup Real nigga from the start 'til the casket shut Present his own case as a basket one Present-day based nigga, smack the judge Riding with them same niggas ashin' blunts While that bass make his face like he mad or somethin' Slide in the safe, take the cash and run Know that if he fake I'm harrassin' him Took the big toe so they tagged the tongue Out here stuntin' like I'm supposed to, dog Blowing more smoke than a broke exhaust Pipe only spirit that I hold's menthol It's Wolf Gang bitch, like you know these paws Living like it's '62, spit and grip my genitals My bitch'll split the Swisher, my niggas split them residuals [Outro: Earl Sweatshirt] Hey, it's marijuana fields, pot growing Blaring Gil Scott Heron while we pill pop Errand run and kill cop Niggas know I feel not for 'em, stop bitching, bruh Stare and get that grill knocked open Hey, it's marijuana fields, pot growing Blaring Gil Scott Heron while we pill pop Errand run and kill cop Niggas know I feel not for 'em, stop bitching, bruh Stare and get that grill knocked open... Nigga
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