Grief

Alright Uh, uh, uh Good grief, I been reaping what I sow Nigga, I ain't been outside in a minute I been living what I wrote And all I see is snakes in the eyes of these niggas Momma taught me how to read 'em when I look Miss me at the precinct getting booked Fishy niggas stick to eating off of hooks Say you eating, but we see you getting cooked, nigga I don't act hard, I'm a hard act to follow, nigga Like it or not, when it drop, bet he gotta listen Chasing dragons, tryna make it happen, on a mission Step into the shadows, we could talk addiction When it's harmful where you going and the part of you that know it Don't give a fuck, pardon me for going into details 3-7-6 was a brothel We had females come in every hour on the dot And the shit sound like a gavel when it knock Focus on my chatter, ain't as frantic as my thoughts Lately I've been panicking a lot Feeling like I'm stranded in a mob Scrambling for Xanax out the canister to pop Never getting out of hand, steady handling my job Time damaging my ties Who turn to get up? Get dude turned to dinner quick You circus niggas, you turning into tricks I was making waves, you was surfing in 'em Dealing with the stomach pains just from birthing niggas' shit Cut the grass off the surface Pray the lawnmower blade catch the back of a serpent, nigga, shit Bitch Good grief, I been reaping what I sow Nigga, I ain't been outside in a minute I been living what I wrote And all I see is snakes in the eyes of these niggas Momma taught me how to read 'em when I look Miss me at the precinct getting booked Fishy niggas stick to eating off of hooks Say you eating, but we see you getting cooked, nigga I'm fleeting thoughts on a leash For the moment, high as fuck I've been alone in my shit for the longest Snakes sliding in the street Mama taught me how to not be like the bodies lying in them Pigs, riding in 'em I'm a target so it's hard to even eye me in 'em If he ain't dying for me, then I ain't riding with him There's no time for that Making sure my man wallet's straight like a collar When you iron that Thinking 'bout my grandmama, find a bottle I'mma wallow when I lie in that I just want my time and my mind intact When they both gone, you can't buy 'em back --- Grief - Earl Sweatshirt