Roc Marciano
Cocaine On My Sweatshirt
[Verse 1: Earl Sweatshirt]
My litter the livest, word to my little guy
Quiet dog with the biggest bite
I'ma give the spliff the Heimlich, till' we hit the highway
Al say "keep it low" like Whittaker eye
Too many disguises, you moving shifty, it was shit I couldn't set aside yet
Mr. Hyde, I quit fraternizing, the picture on the dresser yellowing with time
Wax dripping down the candelabra
I think about the tribe in the midnight marauding
Like Tip and Phife, deep in it nightly
King clip the ticket on the big fish, pricey
Smart Pisces, you got heart off the dribble you not quick like me
Kweli how I'm gettin' by, Don't reach Zim Zimma it's nothing to find
On me, know where to hide from the storm
[Chorus: Stove Good Cooks]
I got that wet work, Ouuu (I got that wet work, Ouuu)
My young boy Tec work, Ouuu (His Tec work, Ouuu)
Shoot you out your sweatshirt, Ouu-uu (Ouu-uu)
Cocaine on my sweatshirt, Ouu-uu (Ouu-uu)
Cook it to the Ouu-uu
Don't just pull up bitch text first Ouu-uu
[Verse 2: Stove God Cooks]
The recipe was etched in stone
We measured it up on the stove
Blew a hundred rap mummies out the trap tomb (Woo)
You can smell it burning in the bathroom (You can)
It's black on the back of the spoon, cash rules (Cash rules everything)
I learned the ropes and start Lassoing (Go)
I don't stop till' we drop the last-o-in (Woo)
They said he got heart, but is you Bret or Owen?
Footprint on it, you better know it
Shooter put that lightning to your face, now you David Bowie (Wooooo)
Fish scale had the hood fish grease, six keys
Stuff it in then sew back up the Benz seat, victory
Had to get a bad brick eventually, it's risky
The wrist key, the god home, the slick-back: Billy Dee (I'm back)
You can't dive into that shallow shit, I'm really deep (I'm really deep)
This shit really pop, this really wok, I'm really sleep (Ha, we really sleep)
I'm really heat
Stove Jesus, holding my pie and whippin' the fork, this shits peaches
One-Twelve on the scale, it quadrupled even
He like, "Stove but is it good?" I'm like "Shit it's decent"
[Chorus: Stove Good Cooks]
I got that wet work, Ouuu (I got that wet work, Ouuu)
My young boy Tec work, Ouuu (His Tec work, Ouuu)
Shoot you out your sweatshirt, Ouu-uu (Ouu-uu)
Cocaine on my sweatshirt, Ouu-uu (Ouu-uu)
Cook it to the Ouu-uu
Don't just pull up bitch text first Ouu-uu