DOMO GENESIS X EARL SWEATSHIRT X VINCE STAPLES X ACTION BRONSON lyrics :
"Elimination Chamber"
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Yo, um, yo
Oh so cocky, you can't stop me in this old Versace
Nigga watch me in the streets like it's roller hockey
Your bitch is floppy, givin' sloppy while she call me papi
Takin' the doggies right to the face like she Kobiyashi
You niggas' flow is washy, I'm gettin' mine dry cleaned
Tight seam, it might seem, I'm sellin' bitches pipe dreams
Hi fiends, I'm back with a bag of them packed white things
My nights clean, I see these niggas hatin' through my ice blings
I'm a bad motherfucker, I ain't use a rubber
Super lover, so soon you say hello to your newest brother
The truest colors what I bleed, but you ain't seen enough of
Nigga leakin', you gon' have to go see the deacon you stupid suckah
Young Dom, say you old niggas should wrap it up
You whack, focus back on the craft, you hardly rap enough
The fattest blunt and death to that pop-pop, I ain't ask for much
And stop askin' for the collabs cause all you bastards suck
[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
This that thirty deep, it's saga shit
Fire starter, squadron dodgin' coppers since
Ask her why she drop it cuz, it's probably cause he prodigist
Pay the rent easy, leave the bank cheesin'
Bass leave your face greezy, artists who paint easy
Thick bristle type nigga on a bitch steeze
Stands is diesel, like Vic Tammy on the fritz, woops
System overload, itchin' for a photo poach
Spittin' like the engine on a motherfuckin' motorboat
Gold glisten under overcoat
Missin' all affection for these niggas
Redirectin' all these niggas
Very literal, type to sip the Mickeys out of cereal
Drunk and drivin', twistin', how he end up in the swimming pool?
Hundred stand against me, I'm a menace void a villain soon
Drivin' into fences cause I hit the whip a little woozy
Bitch I'm busy cruisin', 'scuse me
[Verse 3: Vince Staples]
Can't even walk up in the church without these niggas tryin' to testify
I live to die, better that than to live a lie
I rap better than most these rap veterans
hard-headed and hopeless, hope that God let us in
Momma didn't wanna give birth to a nigga
Should've murdered a nigga, I'm a cancer to the youth
Automatic, shout to roof, 380 with the weave in it
On site, scary as prom nights with Carrie
Or car rides with Berry, that's Halle not Brent
Shootin' like Brent and his brother
Doin' what daddy, I did
Niggas want Grammys and shit, that's funny to me
Cause since the first take it's been about money to me
I'm just tryin' to get what Diddy got
Doin' what got Biggie shot
They told me that I wasn't shit, but left me in a litter box
Give it up and get a job
[Verse 4: Action Bronson]
Uh, get a job bitch
I'm like the pause from the end of the Nintendo game
My brain is on another level like a field of devils pain
Only address me by my reverend name
The good doctor, good author, good brain in a good Porsche
Dancin' drunk in dress pants like I'm a hunk
Backflip in a jacuzzi, forty floors inside the Trump
Front-flip into this high yellow Chinese bitch's rum
Then she make me chicken broccoli for lunch
I roll a joint like a Motumbo worm
I'm high cousin, every time I roll the dice it's five hundred
When I order, it's nine hundred, French chefs kneel before me
End of story take a shorty to the sortee
That's the bathroom, you already know what happens there
I pull my swimming trunks down, she suck me through the boxer
While I'm wearin' flip-flops
Shit's real, grip the wheel, live steel
That's it
Woo, fuck yeah, hello
Fan fare, bravo, encore
Thats' a wrap
Send "Elimination Chamber" Ringtone to your Cell
Oh so cocky, you can't stop me in this old Versace
Nigga watch me in the streets like it's roller hockey
Your bitch is floppy, givin' sloppy while she call me papi
Takin' the doggies right to the face like she Kobiyashi
You niggas' flow is washy, I'm gettin' mine dry cleaned
Tight seam, it might seem, I'm sellin' bitches pipe dreams
Hi fiends, I'm back with a bag of them packed white things
My nights clean, I see these niggas hatin' through my ice blings
I'm a bad motherfucker, I ain't use a rubber
Super lover, so soon you say hello to your newest brother
The truest colors what I bleed, but you ain't seen enough of
Nigga leakin', you gon' have to go see the deacon you stupid suckah
Young Dom, say you old niggas should wrap it up
You whack, focus back on the craft, you hardly rap enough
The fattest blunt and death to that pop-pop, I ain't ask for much
And stop askin' for the collabs cause all you bastards suck
[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
This that thirty deep, it's saga shit
Fire starter, squadron dodgin' coppers since
Ask her why she drop it cuz, it's probably cause he prodigist
Pay the rent easy, leave the bank cheesin'
Bass leave your face greezy, artists who paint easy
Thick bristle type nigga on a bitch steeze
Stands is diesel, like Vic Tammy on the fritz, woops
System overload, itchin' for a photo poach
Spittin' like the engine on a motherfuckin' motorboat
Gold glisten under overcoat
Missin' all affection for these niggas
Redirectin' all these niggas
Very literal, type to sip the Mickeys out of cereal
Drunk and drivin', twistin', how he end up in the swimming pool?
Hundred stand against me, I'm a menace void a villain soon
Drivin' into fences cause I hit the whip a little woozy
Bitch I'm busy cruisin', 'scuse me
[Verse 3: Vince Staples]
Can't even walk up in the church without these niggas tryin' to testify
I live to die, better that than to live a lie
I rap better than most these rap veterans
hard-headed and hopeless, hope that God let us in
Momma didn't wanna give birth to a nigga
Should've murdered a nigga, I'm a cancer to the youth
Automatic, shout to roof, 380 with the weave in it
On site, scary as prom nights with Carrie
Or car rides with Berry, that's Halle not Brent
Shootin' like Brent and his brother
Doin' what daddy, I did
Niggas want Grammys and shit, that's funny to me
Cause since the first take it's been about money to me
I'm just tryin' to get what Diddy got
Doin' what got Biggie shot
They told me that I wasn't shit, but left me in a litter box
Give it up and get a job
[Verse 4: Action Bronson]
Uh, get a job bitch
I'm like the pause from the end of the Nintendo game
My brain is on another level like a field of devils pain
Only address me by my reverend name
The good doctor, good author, good brain in a good Porsche
Dancin' drunk in dress pants like I'm a hunk
Backflip in a jacuzzi, forty floors inside the Trump
Front-flip into this high yellow Chinese bitch's rum
Then she make me chicken broccoli for lunch
I roll a joint like a Motumbo worm
I'm high cousin, every time I roll the dice it's five hundred
When I order, it's nine hundred, French chefs kneel before me
End of story take a shorty to the sortee
That's the bathroom, you already know what happens there
I pull my swimming trunks down, she suck me through the boxer
While I'm wearin' flip-flops
Shit's real, grip the wheel, live steel
That's it
Woo, fuck yeah, hello
Fan fare, bravo, encore
Thats' a wrap
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