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black earth theory - whipped lyrics

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[intro: black earth theory]

(hey kitty, i was just calling to see how you’ve been. just wanted to let you know i’m proud of you for everything you have done and accomplished, and i just can’t wait to see what else you come up with. alright well, hopefully, hopefully you’ll call me back)

(d-mn)

i hate people so much and i also hate being looked at, and i also, also i can’t dance and have zero rhythm

every rapper who said rap is his religion should make a pilgrimage to brooklyn

11:11

i could walk through the hood like jesus, then come back to suburbia and burn

flowers stuck in rifle barrels still grow out of exit wounds

think god created the apple? nah

[verse 1: black earth theory]

in a whip
on a trip
don’t slip
(don’t slip)
in a whip
with a whip
don’t crack
(don’t crack)
in a whip
with a disc
on skip
i’ma dip
in a whip
ill equipped
don’t lack
(go back)

[verse 2: black earth theory]

in a whip, in a skid, no traction
on the disc, not a skip, no track shunned
witty quips, it a synch, with a fast tongue
in a whip, get a grip, one lash son
in the whip, disc skipping still it hits
still feeling like a prince, not william but as rich
in the lyrics i exist
gypsy spirit on the run
from the barrel of a gun
and the herald morning sun
feral catastrophic love
on the prowl
hit a l!ck, whisker, whiskey, or whip white with whisk
begamel
but the flower got me rude
deja vu
beta males
got me power tripping, alphabettin’ soup
catch a spell
which one of you could sprout a second you
without a second thought
and without a pregnant womb
not a second too early
not a second too late
not a second goes by
that a second second ain’t made
second rate to the first second, third was a mistake
move forth to the plate, round first, second base
with a 5th and a six pack
the world section 8
but the 7 got stuck doing surgery on a grape
9 lives in a catatonic state
sipping gin
with a sh-t eating cheshire cat grin on my face
sipping milk
it’s just purple nurple drank
flat earthers still circle round the drain
still spinning this record
sipping guiness
still serving out the ‘frankly my dear
i don’t give the first word what you think’
don’t cry
over spilled guts
sipping liver k!ller, id calling me donor but i do not have much
so below as above
quatro crazy through an iv, four i p-ss
roman numerals ain’t enough for the buzz
‘fore i p-ss forth i’m past 4.0 gpa or bal, four eye gl-ss, like i see it four times past 4 am, seeing four, on the side of the road the dash cam got me four different angles but i ignore the flash
somewhere between graduate, drop out and stoner kid
jocking the b-tches, a square peg, round hole to fit
freestyling, flipping the breaks from the bus we rode up in
i never knew what genre to fit in either don’t close me in
voted most likely to make god scream ‘holy sh-t’
and catch the holy ghost as if the father left his only kid
left him with mary, what’s man but a misogynist
pet cemetery, don’t make me have to dog a b-tch
too kindly for the gutters
but too grimy for the suburbs
too hyphy for the public eye
they try to keep me covered under wraps
two timing motherf-ckers
makes me we wonder how i keep from staying under when they hit me with the thunder and lightning despite being five feet five wait, i’m six feet six, i’m a nice tree to strike, hey
what up zeus
send it lower or you just need zetas
nah you simian, you must be zaius
2 – deus
2 days
deuce deuce, 2 sides of your brain
left or right both likely to just like me the same
one, two em (222)
one rootin, shootin, hollering, 22in’ cowboy that could maybe p-ss as human
it’s the wild west wouldn’t you like a gold rush
no it’s more like west world yuletide the cold months (aye)
i the am, i am me, how i am
hal i am, im me, i am the hologram
hollow land, don’t you come knocking at my core
i just wanna see you drop that -ss far past the floor
dismantle yet another nuclear family the photo album stripped down
to tattoos, and tips, in your head there’s a war
there’s a story to be told
societies to be formed
so many lives to live
okay, initial and sign this form

[coda: black earth theory]

in the whip
out the whip
we bask in it

out their grip
don’t slip
and fall back in it

in a whip
crack the whip
don’t slack a bit

crack your knuckles
crack your back stiff
and get back to it

[outro: black earth theory]

tell me you can rap and i just wanna see how
tell me you can see the future, i just wanna see now
tell me that you’re down and you’ll always be down
but if you tell me you’re a king, then you’ll start to see the crown

(f-ck standards, you just need to f-cking love yourself)

(cameron’s hungover and keeps getting cold sweats from the rides)



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