Early Shovel, Early Sledge

[Verse 1]

Legend said the skittish coming, warning with a torch light

Whinny til the wheels fall off, can’t til me nay until this horse die

British slang: the world is mine, innit?

The world on fire and I’m fine with it

Yard of ciggy butts, and paper cups spilled on the pavement

Scars across the wrist, from paper cutting with my paycheck

Stomp you out with both the Sock and Buskin

It’s comedy, ironic

Ya’ll can hate it but not hard to love it

Ain’t shit changed, still DANGER on the placard

We don’t need no education, brains on the black board

Chasing I cannot entertain, keep it in a wanting state

Tell her go head get the Chrome Hearts and charge it to the black card

Going worldwide, prose and the penmanship is pro

Steamrolling over O-lines

Huh, trolling on the low, bro relax

I’m a ogre with a pole axe swinging for your throat high

Good times

Spinning my own web when I catch my flies

Poking at the nest and every pest I find

I’d give up every cent just to rest my eyes

I said good times, good times

Misspelling every letter that I send by mind

Hand to the chest when I pledge my allegiance to the land of the flesh and the teeth I grind

(Yeah the teeth I grind)

Okay drop and give me three if you wanna stoop low

Sug and Shneaky link, you blink, all you see is two goats

Ain’t no genie in my dreams, man I dream of bruised bones

Leave the sleeping dog asleep or you gone wake up Cujo

They can peep the alt delete but we control the fuse though

Sug the keeper of the keys, gone blow a Florida cruise up

Jump the boat and flew home, showed up with your widow

To the funeral and did it on your fucking tombstone

Ain’t shit change, mute baby in the manger in the dark

Cracked wasted in the Waymo and I still can’t even park

Fuck you play it safe for?

You don’t know jack, Sug a king, and the dealer never denying the face card

Ahh what it take (take), ahh what it take (take)

Tell a one night stand get your hands off my eighth (eighth)

Ahh, watch that old boy fry like a crepe

Ahh, another problem for my plate, in a fight with my fate

Good times

Spinning my own web when I catch my flies

Poking at the nest and every pest I find

I’d give up every cent just to rest my eyes

I said good times, good times

Misspelling every letter that I send by mind

Hand to the chest when I pledge my allegiance to the land of the flesh and the teeth I grind

(Yeah the teeth I grind)