Hive (feat. Vince Staples & Casey Veggies)

Promise Heron

I'll put my fist up after I get my dick sucked

A quick buck

Maybe a gold chain

With that fuckin' flow that s-s-so belittles men

They tentatively tend to turn and go when I am finished

Stone cold, hardly fucking with these ****, **** listen

The description doesn't fit

If not a synonym of menace, then forget it

In turn, these critics and interns admitting

The shit spitted just burn like six furnaces writ it

Affixed, learn them digits

And simultaneously dispelling one trick pony myths, isn't he?

One adolescent, fuckin' six **** energy

And crawling down 'Fax like a rich **** centipede

Crack ceramic and slap a hand out of cash account

Stamp and shouting, thrashing, these **** done let the Kraken out

Crack-a-lackin', like snap, crackle, popping your ammo off

Hide your face and throw your flannels off

Sweatshirt, ****

Eighty-seven roof top Bronson

Whippin' hoopties tryna boost raw chronic

Brutus in that booth, double scoop, hock vomit up

Sub rocking, thud, knocking **** teeth loose

Bruh, I don't fuck with no cop

Rollin' with that flow swamp

Catch me over stove top

I'm rappin' to that coke rock

Passionless in old Jive clothing

With them doors wide open

Dim the floor lights, focused

Like it's nothing, 'cause it's nothing, bitch

From a city that's recession hit

With stress **** could flex metal with peddle to rake pennies in

Desolate testaments, tryna stay Jekyll-ish

But most **** Hyde, and Brenda just stay Preg-a-nant

Breaking news, death's less important when the Lakers lose

It's lead in that baby food

Heads try to make it through

Fish netted legs for them eyes that she cater to

Ride dirty as the fucking sky that you praying to

So here I sit, eye in the pyramid

God spit it like it's truth serum in that beer

And then disappear again

Reappear bearded on top of a Lear

Steering it into the kids ear again

Provider of the backdrop music

For the crack rock user and the mascot, Earl

Rawer than the skinned knee cap on the blacktop

Salivary glands, lighter fluid for the matchbox

Striking, wait, wait, who the fuck you badder than?

Boy oh boy, I'm bad as burnt pollo of the grill and shit

Spitter of the little Nick, nimble, Rick-rolling

Bitch **** pick littler, piff blower, plus I pillage shit

Eighty-seven roof top Bronson

Whippin' hoopties tryna boost raw chronic

Brutus in that booth, double scoop, hock vomit up

Sub rocking, thud, knocking **** teeth loose

Bruh, I don't fuck with no cop

Rollin' with that flow swamp

Catch me over stove top

I'm rappin' to that coke rock

Passionless in old Jive clothing

With them doors wide open

Dim the floor lights, focused

Like it's nothing, 'cause it's nothing, bitch

Quit with all that tough talk, bruh

We know you **** ain't about shit

Come around, we gun 'em down, bodies piled, Auschwitz

Bulletproof outfits, weapons concealed

I'm ready to kill, so test it

All my weapons is real

Sellin' thizz, couldn't tell him what the recipe is

Got 'em wishin' that they never gave these weapons to kids

Cheers

Send chills up spines of fat bitches after shows

Throwing out sandwiches

**** get it how they live

And I live for money

Other words, I'm getting money

Little boy told me when it's time to ride they'll send up for me

Ain't nobody scaring me

**** ain't prepared for heat

Tools hit like pool sticks, the way I cue shit

If this was eighty-eight, I woulda signed to Ruthless

Nine-four, woulda had him walkin' down Death Row

First is when the best go, hate is what the rest do

Voice inside my head told me, wet 'em if they test you

So it's raging waters season

That yomper big as Larry Johnson, leave yo momma seedless

Everybody hard until it's only God they seeing

Kitten soft, but in they songs be trappin' hard as Jeezy

I don't believe it, but to each his own

I ain't trippin', long as I can reach the chrome

Heat your home like southern California gas, police pass

Tell 'em free Smalls off Palm with the heat drawn

Strapped up, long as the chief for police armed

Raised where the beasts are, north of the Beach

A couple streets past Baby J

Bony **** spraying K's

Ruger with the pork face

Jewish for the court case

Here to save you **** from the sorbet, Coldchain

Like it's nothing, 'cause it's nothing, bitch