Released: March 31, 2010
Songwriter: Earl Sweatshirt
Producer: Tyler, The Creator
[Verse 1]
Ma said "Wake up son, good morning"
I rolled out of bed, greeted mama with a yawn, then
Paused to scratch and itch, and went down to the kitchen
Fixed a plate of eggs and bacon, glass of OJ Simpson
Just as I was about to dig in
A thought jumped in my head, school was to be attended, shit
I paid my thoughts no attention 'cause I wasn't tryna kick it
With this bitch that just ended it with me
But mama wasn't havin' it, so I grabbed my bag
And split out the door and saw the whore that I'd rather kick
It seems kinda brash but it's the hash, I mean the harsh truth
She runs shit, she's the jock, I'm the horseshoe
She's gorgeous, when niggas see it jaws hit the floor so
When she left, it didn't break my heart it broke my torso
Making my eyes ache, stalking your MySpace
Posted a new pic, I mean it when I say that I fucking hate you
But
Maybe if you looked in this direction
I'd pick my heart up off the floor and put it in my chest then
Feel the fucking life rushin' through my body
But you got a guy that's not me, so my wrist is looking sloppy
Come on, let's cut the bull like a matador
You light me up like lamps, a chance is all I'm really asking for
Give me one, I promise I'll be back for more
Most wanna tap and score, I want a fam of four
[Interlude]
Not like a family of four, just like...
Fuck it
You'll never listen to this shit anyways
Fuck you
Bitch
Ugh...
[Verse 2]
She said "You rushing, you rabid son of a Labrador
But I'm attracted to you like teenyboppers to Apple Stores"
The basement light is darkened, the switchblade is sharpened
Her name on my arm and her face on a two-percent carton
See her face while you're fixing your breakfast
And know she's in my basement, objecting to sex with
Me, murder spree, surges on with the next bitch
Tombstones read RIP cause it's pieces they rest in
Ma said "Wake up son, good morning"
I rolled out of bed, greeted mama with a yawn, then
Paused to scratch and itch, and went down to the kitchen
Fixed a plate of eggs and bacon, glass of OJ Simpson
Just as I was about to dig in
A thought jumped in my head, school was to be attended, shit
I paid my thoughts no attention 'cause I wasn't tryna kick it
With this bitch that just ended it with me
But mama wasn't havin' it, so I grabbed my bag
And split out the door and saw the whore that I'd rather kick
It seems kinda brash but it's the hash, I mean the harsh truth
She runs shit, she's the jock, I'm the horseshoe
She's gorgeous, when niggas see it jaws hit the floor so
When she left, it didn't break my heart it broke my torso
Making my eyes ache, stalking your MySpace
Posted a new pic, I mean it when I say that I fucking hate you
But
Maybe if you looked in this direction
I'd pick my heart up off the floor and put it in my chest then
Feel the fucking life rushin' through my body
But you got a guy that's not me, so my wrist is looking sloppy
Come on, let's cut the bull like a matador
You light me up like lamps, a chance is all I'm really asking for
Give me one, I promise I'll be back for more
Most wanna tap and score, I want a fam of four
[Interlude]
Not like a family of four, just like...
Fuck it
You'll never listen to this shit anyways
Fuck you
Bitch
Ugh...
[Verse 2]
She said "You rushing, you rabid son of a Labrador
But I'm attracted to you like teenyboppers to Apple Stores"
The basement light is darkened, the switchblade is sharpened
Her name on my arm and her face on a two-percent carton
See her face while you're fixing your breakfast
And know she's in my basement, objecting to sex with
Me, murder spree, surges on with the next bitch
Tombstones read RIP cause it's pieces they rest in