Letra
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Verse: Earl Sweatshirt
99 problems all gone in that one joint
And that neck gold froze like he held it at gunpoint
I'm a bubble in the belly of the monster
With a duffel full of troubles, trunk rattle in the Mazda
Ragged with the contra, Phantom of the Opera
And I'm standing on the cop's truck, stacking for the long run
The bags packed, roadside with the thumb out
Toe-tagged, don't gag, spit your gum out
Nomadic, chrome-grabbing when it's danger
I'm a manger-born puppy, holding flight like a hangar do
Knife to the trachea, spit scabies and bet
The label don't like mе, but they pay me a grip
And you see how his day going by the statе of his wrists
Y'all niggas busy Play-Dohing, bet the baker came swinging like
What the fuck you saying? All that aiming and miss
Ayy, I'ma fuck the freckles off your bitch
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