Earl Sweatshirt — Chamber

The boy been gone a few summers, too long for road runnin Trunk full of old hundreds. Of course my old level was gory grow grubbin. Don’t tell me they don’t hunt us for sport I chose substances No cuddles, the bases is all covered. Niggas come in the door and smoke somethin. Choke up on the slugger for home run hitters Nigga it’s on. Chest up his head tucked on the floor. We pressed up on the boy. No more bluff-in Cold summers, don’t tussle with strangers Some of those keep one in the chamber Three spliffs had my wing tips clipped I was stuck in a hanger. Nigga Muffle my pen and muzzle my brain up Really I’m just making sure my promise is kept Chump confused if he know it’s the end Kept the truth and I’m pounding my chest See it through, keep a noose hangin off of my neck You got the juice? Niggas corny as shit We on the loose, niggas know what it is We makin moves. You niggas corny as shit We got the juice