Odd Future - Hcapd
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ODD FUTURE


Hcapd Lyrics

Many men has met his fate, murder I premeditate
The world is low, the devil waits so I stay high as heaven gates
See I'm on it everyday, minutes never go to waste
If ain't no profit on the way then we cannot negotiate
Scripture texts for holy sakes, who's tellin' what the Lord will say
Until that day, I'll be tunnel vision on the paper chase
Odd Future, f*ck your feelings, check the score we f*ckin' winnin'
Check the list we in the building, stupid swag, Paris Hilton
More potential, you's a liar, step up we will crucify ya
Head first, yea it's going down like a scuba diver
Need the fire, I'll supply ya, put the hire on the block
Swag on deck, if you need it I be overstocked

I'm a brother man with a swagger from the motherlands
It tells my hands and rubs my glands, I'm ill as f*ck, b*tch f*ck your mans
Chingy Chong, I'm in Japan, Cheech and Chong wrapped in seran
Keep the bong hash in my canister, I'm headed where it's handed first
Domo rollin' up, Left Brain already smokin'
You smell that loud ounce? Mary Jane has already spoken
My shades on, b*tch I'm lokin', no need for aggravations
Cause a fake n*gga in his death bed will be f*ckin' collaboratin'
Kush escaped without a roller, high roller, no time for strollers
Made it stoned because I'm workin' over,
too many posers tryin' to rob my bowl
I'm pretty sure Tyler will represent it,
I fell asleep before you b*tch n*ggas present it
I'm f*ckin' authentic, remember it, you motherf*ckers pretending

Me and Leggo just skated the bowl
Next thing you know wildin' out at Watch the Throne
I had a dead phone so I gave that little n*gga my cam
He snapped that sh*t, the motherf*ckers went HAM
Like Miss Piggy cunt around Kermit
I'm like how many f*cks can I get a day?
F*ck respect, I'd rather hang myself on the wall with a noose on neck
Before I change to fit in your box,
so I'll make sure I cannot fit in a house
And I hate genres, f*ck hip hop with their searching
cop high top flip flops
In the middle of the winter,
y'all like f*ck them kids, like a weird babysitter might say
No diggity, I'm still tryin' to find it but I lost it somewhere in Austin
In a creek with Dawson and this vegan b*tch tryin' to eat my sausage
That sounds awesome
F*ck these parties, I'm real awkward
I stand there, I don't know what to do man
I'd rather be at home with my crew and my new rooms,
staring at my brand new MoonMan
Listening to MF Doom and Wooh Da Kid and Bricksquad 1017
Shout out to Waka, rest in peace Slim
Golf Wang motherf*ckin' triple six we is 3 twins
Free my little n*gga sweatshirt
Gay name stitched into my sweatshirt
Bow down until your motherf*ckin' neck hurt
Respect me. Do we run sh*t? N*gga, yes indeed
Cheech and Chong, I need a bong
But I do have friends who got weed that's strong
I need a tree house, and hockey, ping pong, a mini ramp
Throwing that tramp on a trampoline
(Have you heard the end of the Window?)
N*gga f*ck the team
Hey, I'm just playin', I love you n*ggas
I hate these n*ggas, f*ck these n*ggas
F*ck everybody who doubted me
The only ones I care about's the ones that surround me
Odd Future!

F*ck all you industry n*ggas man
Y'all see me at parties, start comin' up sayin'
"We must collab" I don't f*ck with none of you n*ggas
All y'all can suck my motherf*ckin' dick
F*ck all you labels
F*ck every f*ckin' DJ I hope y'all don't play none of my sh*t
Suck my motherf*ckin' dick
And don't come up to me at the next event
I don't want your f*ckin' number, your business card
F*ck your company, I'm not performin' at none of your sh*t
Don't ask for my f*ckin' manager's email
I don't f*ck with none of you n*ggas
Golf Wang, Free Earl n*gga
F*ck Steve Harvey

these lyrics are submitted by kaan

Songwriter(s): Gerard Long, Dominique Cole, Vyron Turner, Tyler Okonma
Copyright: Chill Bro Music, Sony/ATV Songs LLC, Golf Wang Steak Sauce, Loiter Squad Music
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