Cold World - Earl Sweatshirt, Remy Banks

Swerving in a hoopty, but a nigga not drunk

I’m high off of life, with a pinch of skunk

Maybe high off of determination, but I’m low on luck

Because we’ve been putting on for years, and people still be counting sheep on

us

But its cool, I be that offspring dressed in all wolf clothing

With a mallet and a bell, just awaiting a rude awakening

Out here yellin Worlds Fair until the name ring

Hailing from a place where every nigga wanna be king

Plus this world is too cold, so I keep myself circle small

Puffing chronic with my dogs, chilly, but we holding down the city

And my burrow, feelin unstoppable like Tetsuo

Akira in the membrane Queens get the money

Yet I’m broke and going insane, stressed out my brain

Til it left on a train to Connecticut for the weekend

Might extended stay until I’m diving in the deep end

Of a pool full of euros, pounds, and yen, let’s get this money, man

L said it’s cold in this world, sometimes it’s hard for me to crack a smile

That real shit is going out of style

These young niggas out here acting buck wild

We just need that real shit right now

L said it’s cold in this world, somehow it’s hard for me to crack a smile

That real shit is going out of style

These young niggas out here acting buck wild

They just need that real shit right now

For what it’s worth, a nigga made his way from the dirt

All the times I went berserk, all ideas that didn’t work

But we cherish when we hurt, we finished dinner and dessert

For every thought that hurt for the piece that I deserve I’m on the search

Many times a nigga felt that he would give in

Every dream that I would witness with previous premonitions

I knew that I would be this

It’s never been a secret took a genius to believe it or an elitist to achieve it

I’m runnin overheated, but practice what I’m preachin

Never sleep and we catch you slippin and throw you in the deep end

I know some niggas died over pride, high

I know some fake niggas claim they ride, that’s a lie

I know some hating niggas that when I rhyme, they despise

Wish I could share these visions through eyes

High like a fucking revolutionary

I’m droppin knowledge, and its only knowledge you should carry

Bitch, I’m the truth and everybody know the truth is scary

Looking for shit to scratch up off this bucket list

Found a tug of war between my mother and my fucking friends

Fucking bucket, bumping nothing in the summer

Trying to chug a fifth of Jack in case you wondering where the ruckus went

I kept in the baggie of Oregano

Fronting like I’m selling dope, stunting with my effort low

Let the records show these niggas why they bitches neck is swole

It’s OFM to the death of us, pigs, try to hem us up

The best wrestler’s back guzzling seconds up

Using label checks to fuck around in the Cressida

And I’m advocating aggression

To any man who would test us, an avid fan of the presence of vodka

This drink is like my first time hearing Flocka

Hope is what the weed can’t offer

Cheap ass, coughing, C-class method actor, young nigga

Dressing like I’m geriatric, said it’s very active

Strong arm, steady swearing I could tear a mattress

Track-slapping 'em silly as Tom and Jerry tactics

Why you started?

I fire harder than every rapper

Gassing these fairies, dare I say that he carry matches?

Hey, you think it’s a god damn joke, don’t you?

Well, let me tell you something boy!

It’s life around here, and in life, you’re gonna have to go to school…

No confusion apparent, I know who I am

Responsibility enables me to move through life with agility

Home donors, pressure in the endzone, but I breeze by skillfully

Practice makes perfect said the wise man, or so his whole life span

They said a man was part of the sea

By hand, what?

could he divide land?

Coast West like a took a Vyvanse, I’m just a bystander

And what you capture in my stanzas is a crossbreed

OG and banana

A jealous man I envy, cause a jealous man is friendly

Award him like a Grammy, or rather Emmy

Television all science, and music is just enough to ear a Q-tip

Where the proof sits that smells like bull shits

Ain’t it a shame when a nigga can’t be honest?

And it’s whats-her-name that can’t keep a promise

Mind is with my Comcast

Watching what I do before it’s on them dot-coms and hastags, nigga