Sarob. - High noon. lyrics

High noon: Now go'n put your hands together like its 12:00 I seldom say that type of sh** but on a scale of 1-sick, man i must be off a fifth Swift, sarob be on your piff Puff the daddy type of rips Stuff the caddy and we drift My gla** is half-full, but I still need a refill Ain't no pascal, long as the keef ill Abra cadabra hold heat like candelabra Handle a bra, square opened her up like a parabola Where the cab brah? i'm kinda loopy Put cambell in my bum raps, oh now its kinda soupy Go'n grab a scoop Me? i'm coolin out to coolie High Lace my kickers, woolie thai Taste of victors, basement bickers Just to show i'd prove me right And check the chipped tooth grin Still wreck the chick you messin with and go'n and flip her friend God bless the gift to count the riff, it had me at wits end, remastered sh** and it still never sounded like joey Or earl. or chancelor. freelance jams and still b-boy stance I lance a b**h Handsome pants' length scant Scamp skate over scalp and scowl white owl tranced on transits Pits dampened damned to pits dance off candid fits quart of cancers quick sort the bandit bliss This just that sh** when you're down But ain't no limit when you're in livin sound Still a silhouette regretting that cigarette 19 sittin in a pool full of debt Pipe dreams spilling had my whole future set Now my vices lean stickin like its vice a lean (vasolene), stricken Super silly, supercilious cynic I'll sip the cylinder so long as I can skip to the zenith I slipped some syllables and spent like half a year of my brilliance on seminal sh** i read it like a seminole Lit, i seen it all Lip unlimited and lemon aided to see f**s eliminated Little wait and i'm with manny in the kitchen fly u said respect a n***a vision Only name-dropping cause i know they'll listen, look If she ain't f**in, i'll de-friend her That sh** cray son White girls sayin n-word, that sh** kreayshawn Spent all last summer on that copy and paste Ma tried control, c but really all I needed was space I made this song for julie with the fat booty For my aunt judy smokin all them packs of newports For the foolies at the doobie know it's yours truly Go'n play a n***a, homie, vibe to the chorus Part II: Ma wanted me to stay a hooper...but only time i need to tie the loops tighter is when i can't find a producer Reminding the stupor climbing the stupa chime of the sloping screw ups who grew up and kindled the kind of music you stew up in the coup with a couple loose nuts left numb off of brewses/bruises I been browsing for boosters to balloon and blow off my bloopers Man I dropped decent and these gaps in my mouth couldn't have been cuter Dropped decent and gap in my closet turned to j crew Gnarly dude, i'm twisted like bob marley's doo. you say you rap but bro you hardly do. sarob all on your safari, don't start me I'm a good kid with a mean flow, i mean i guess that's partly true Rhymes is helu, hallelujah. thought it was cliche, but push a tape and watch folks act like they knew ya Eject you later jack you were laid out all over the fader faded off in like 3 months hope you were savin the paper Slacker turned backpacker Blue moon black packer Soo-woo pill popper (red) all the scab ranters and blogs with bad grammar Know broads with mad standards, but I bet they Nielsen like I was on soundscanner