Fire in the Booth lyrics

[Verse 1: "Chum" by Earl Sweatshirt]
Frisbee at halo and ?
Recite God like like the rhymes written by angels
Born with the blood of an enraged slave
Caught f*cking master wifey and got hung that day
That's why I f*ck these white b*tches like its payback
You old n*ggas playing games like Pat Sajak
Whipping up the Vanna White
Brought an extra ? back
The way my b*tches looking you would think we at a horse track
Cos' the romanellis long way from Pelle Pelle's
Stacking in the telly with that next tall sally
Banging R Kelly, getting that ?
Now what I di*k for a show, that first lick they hitting belly
Now tell me I ain't the crown of the nouns
Unleash furious verbs, make these peasants bown down
The presence of a legend every time i come round
Why in my face they smile when I turn my back they frown

[Verse 2: "0 to 100" by Drake]
Hypnotised like staring straight into a serpents eyes
Want it all in the bags, its like them fries at five guys
My eye size is pint sized, blind off the muy thai
? karate chop, slump leaning sideways
Chicken coop smokey on every other friday
One way driving down the wrong way of a highway
Getting f*cked up in public coming down after binging
Never had class just after school detention
Did I mention, I'd still be teaching these n*ggas
Doing their danny brown rendition, but that sh*t ain't clicking
Tripping when im hitting off this backwood I'm hitting
Giggling when I listen to that ? they be kidding
? The way these n*ggas rapping's a shame
If they wasn't so lame I'd be saying they name
Get your own sh*t n*gga trying to merge in my lane
Crash into another car avoiding the thrashing plane
[Verse 3: "Morgue" by Wiley]
Stressed out n*gga 'bout to lose my mind
The whole damn time I've been thinking about crying
Cause' mind f*cked up and I'm f*cked up
So I get f*cked up gone ?
? Don't waste my time
? Don't waste my time
Take this nick hit a lick get a dollar
Come back and see me been here this whole time
Smoking on gas thats toxic, say it flew in from the tropic
? just profit
Need that money because i need them boxes
Mind on the green like the ? Celtics
Nine tucked right by the pelvis
Fiends nodding off on the toilet like Elvis
Have a n*gga thinking how the f*ck do i sell this
'Cause i f*cking need that money, hit that block couple miles and running
Gotta get them ten, twenties, fifties and hundreds
Have a n*gga locked doing time doing dumb sh*t
So i gotta just think it smarter
Gotta get this money for my daughter
Dog this ain't the eighty nine ? in that cutlass and that sh*t have you locked before you even get started

[Verse 4: "Eskimo" by Wiley]
I come from a dark past but guess what b*tch got a bright future
These b*tches feeling freaky because my diamonds going Kama Sutra
'Bout to make a power move, smoking on ?
Used to hustle in shower shoes until I got like I had my own shower shoes
Now these n*ggas got me on Igor, smell just like the seashore
Shots of my ? serving B more
I made 200 racks off a D-tour
On the interstate with them ? traffic
Stopped my ? but that spot still ? and bouncing
So much money I might need counselling
Had that forty in my Pelle Pelle
Trapping in that rolling Telly
I was ? out of town
Stacking up trying to cop a chevy
So if you ain't talking about money then you ain't talking about nothing
Get the f*ck out my face because my ? so rambunctious