Between Villains Feat Captain murphy Viktor Vaugh Earl Sweatshirt Lyrics
| Song | Between Villains Feat Captain murphy Viktor Vaugh Earl Sweatshirt |
| Artist | Flying Lotus |
| Album | 24 Song Zip File |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| [Verse 1: Viktor Vaughn] | |
| Vik, the wild islander, bringing out the child in ya | |
| Singing out the silencer with more violence than "Heil Hitler" | |
| He get some looks, some bull*************t roll-over, a dusty pullover and a Pulitzer | |
| A must we bust your crusty subwoofer sista | |
| Foes is just bluffin', clear your nose from huff-puffin' | |
| A glutton for bludgeoning blood gu*************n', here you go, stud muffin | |
| It’s nothin', get it on the get-by | |
| Bet it on a dead guy, jet it on the red eye | |
| Too many make mistake fillers, not enough live wires | |
| Too many fake killers, and jive sires | |
| Dropped these bombs on a critic from a grass knoll | |
| Everybody got one, your mom's is a asshole | |
| S.O.B. and smug to the u**ost | |
| Cut it close and catch a slug to the gut Mos, word to Thu**ose | |
| What's worse, clutch your purse close, lady | |
| We get more cheese bread for the baby, toast to Grady, one-eighty | |
| [Verse 2: Earl Sweat*************rt] | |
| I'm in the cut looking for some puss to pick apart | |
| Dirty like us riding in the whip that really isn't ours | |
| Storming out the door, don't press record, I hate my ******g voice | |
| Trying to kill that noise, performing fill that void slightly | |
| I'm swimming in water that's been dicy since landing | |
| And I'm owing these *************s nothing | |
| Like all that I've been handed for free, don't pan your cameras to me | |
| Ho, don't command me to speak | |
| Got these little *************s swinging from the banister, on Fax in his pajamas | |
| Walking slow because the camels keep his stamina weak | |
| And you could catch him like some halibut after a bad accident | |
| Trying to get jaw-jacked right where the catheter peeks out | |
| Villain, Earl, and Captain in command of your street now | |
| Rapping good as mother******g janitors sweep now | |
| Getting business handled, get the cannabis cheap now | |
| It's a bunch of nuggets on him like it's sand on a beach towel | |
| [Verse 3: Captain Murphy] | |
| Captain's back (Yay!) | |
| So go on put your mic away | |
| (Where?) Inside a microwave (...Oh.) | |
| When I die, I bet you Mike'll wave (tee-hee) | |
| We blowing bubbles at the pearly gates | |
| Took a selfie with the king but only see my face | |
| I’m writing darker pieces in my thesis | |
| I’m hiding in the park with all your nieces | |
| Tradin' head for Reese's Pieces | |
| Interject in *************s' verses with this book of witches' curses | |
| I cast a spell upon your ******* but my thirst is for the hearses | |
| I’m spilling out my innards | |
| To these n-words, journey inwards | |
| Caught her quarter past the moment | |
| Got a cord of past opponents | |
| In a fragment of a moment man I killed that rap then owned it | |
| Hope to overtake the planet, with my banana in a hammock | |
| ************* manic parents panic, I’m a mechanic with these patterns | |
| Propagandic with that chatter, matter of fact the Madder Hatter | |
| Never mind the hammer, manners out the window | |
| Pump crescendo, puff the endo, I’m Lou Ferrigno | |
| Just pretendo, don’t ask him where the pen go | |
| Cause the pencil got me paper paid and paydirt made them paint her | |
| With the mask and faded sweat*************rt, nothing lesser | |
| Bet you’ll never ever guess what I left under the dresser | |
| Hid a message in the 808 to pester all the Heshers |
| Verse 1: Viktor Vaughn | |
| Vik, the wild islander, bringing out the child in ya | |
| Singing out the silencer with more violence than " Heil Hitler" | |
| He get some looks, some bull t rollover, a dusty pullover and a Pulitzer | |
| A must we bust your crusty subwoofer sista | |
| Foes is just bluffin', clear your nose from huffpuffin' | |
| A glutton for bludgeoning blood gu n', here you go, stud muffin | |
| It' s nothin', get it on the getby | |
| Bet it on a dead guy, jet it on the red eye | |
| Too many make mistake fillers, not enough live wires | |
| Too many fake killers, and jive sires | |
| Dropped these bombs on a critic from a grass knoll | |
| Everybody got one, your mom' s is a asshole | |
| S. O. B. and smug to the u ost | |
| Cut it close and catch a slug to the gut Mos, word to Thu ose | |
| What' s worse, clutch your purse close, lady | |
| We get more cheese bread for the baby, toast to Grady, oneeighty | |
| Verse 2: Earl Sweat rt | |
| I' m in the cut looking for some puss to pick apart | |
| Dirty like us riding in the whip that really isn' t ours | |
| Storming out the door, don' t press record, I hate my g voice | |
| Trying to kill that noise, performing fill that void slightly | |
| I' m swimming in water that' s been dicy since landing | |
| And I' m owing these s nothing | |
| Like all that I' ve been handed for free, don' t pan your cameras to me | |
| Ho, don' t command me to speak | |
| Got these little s swinging from the banister, on Fax in his pajamas | |
| Walking slow because the camels keep his stamina weak | |
| And you could catch him like some halibut after a bad accident | |
| Trying to get jawjacked right where the catheter peeks out | |
| Villain, Earl, and Captain in command of your street now | |
| Rapping good as mother g janitors sweep now | |
| Getting business handled, get the cannabis cheap now | |
| It' s a bunch of nuggets on him like it' s sand on a beach towel | |
| Verse 3: Captain Murphy | |
| Captain' s back Yay! | |
| So go on put your mic away | |
| Where? Inside a microwave ... Oh. | |
| When I die, I bet you Mike' ll wave teehee | |
| We blowing bubbles at the pearly gates | |
| Took a selfie with the king but only see my face | |
| I' m writing darker pieces in my thesis | |
| I' m hiding in the park with all your nieces | |
| Tradin' head for Reese' s Pieces | |
| Interject in s' verses with this book of witches' curses | |
| I cast a spell upon your but my thirst is for the hearses | |
| I' m spilling out my innards | |
| To these nwords, journey inwards | |
| Caught her quarter past the moment | |
| Got a cord of past opponents | |
| In a fragment of a moment man I killed that rap then owned it | |
| Hope to overtake the planet, with my banana in a hammock | |
| manic parents panic, I' m a mechanic with these patterns | |
| Propagandic with that chatter, matter of fact the Madder Hatter | |
| Never mind the hammer, manners out the window | |
| Pump crescendo, puff the endo, I' m Lou Ferrigno | |
| Just pretendo, don' t ask him where the pen go | |
| Cause the pencil got me paper paid and paydirt made them paint her | |
| With the mask and faded sweat rt, nothing lesser | |
| Bet you' ll never ever guess what I left under the dresser | |
| Hid a message in the 808 to pester all the Heshers |
| Verse 1: Viktor Vaughn | |
| Vik, the wild islander, bringing out the child in ya | |
| Singing out the silencer with more violence than " Heil Hitler" | |
| He get some looks, some bull t rollover, a dusty pullover and a Pulitzer | |
| A must we bust your crusty subwoofer sista | |
| Foes is just bluffin', clear your nose from huffpuffin' | |
| A glutton for bludgeoning blood gu n', here you go, stud muffin | |
| It' s nothin', get it on the getby | |
| Bet it on a dead guy, jet it on the red eye | |
| Too many make mistake fillers, not enough live wires | |
| Too many fake killers, and jive sires | |
| Dropped these bombs on a critic from a grass knoll | |
| Everybody got one, your mom' s is a asshole | |
| S. O. B. and smug to the u ost | |
| Cut it close and catch a slug to the gut Mos, word to Thu ose | |
| What' s worse, clutch your purse close, lady | |
| We get more cheese bread for the baby, toast to Grady, oneeighty | |
| Verse 2: Earl Sweat rt | |
| I' m in the cut looking for some puss to pick apart | |
| Dirty like us riding in the whip that really isn' t ours | |
| Storming out the door, don' t press record, I hate my g voice | |
| Trying to kill that noise, performing fill that void slightly | |
| I' m swimming in water that' s been dicy since landing | |
| And I' m owing these s nothing | |
| Like all that I' ve been handed for free, don' t pan your cameras to me | |
| Ho, don' t command me to speak | |
| Got these little s swinging from the banister, on Fax in his pajamas | |
| Walking slow because the camels keep his stamina weak | |
| And you could catch him like some halibut after a bad accident | |
| Trying to get jawjacked right where the catheter peeks out | |
| Villain, Earl, and Captain in command of your street now | |
| Rapping good as mother g janitors sweep now | |
| Getting business handled, get the cannabis cheap now | |
| It' s a bunch of nuggets on him like it' s sand on a beach towel | |
| Verse 3: Captain Murphy | |
| Captain' s back Yay! | |
| So go on put your mic away | |
| Where? Inside a microwave ... Oh. | |
| When I die, I bet you Mike' ll wave teehee | |
| We blowing bubbles at the pearly gates | |
| Took a selfie with the king but only see my face | |
| I' m writing darker pieces in my thesis | |
| I' m hiding in the park with all your nieces | |
| Tradin' head for Reese' s Pieces | |
| Interject in s' verses with this book of witches' curses | |
| I cast a spell upon your but my thirst is for the hearses | |
| I' m spilling out my innards | |
| To these nwords, journey inwards | |
| Caught her quarter past the moment | |
| Got a cord of past opponents | |
| In a fragment of a moment man I killed that rap then owned it | |
| Hope to overtake the planet, with my banana in a hammock | |
| manic parents panic, I' m a mechanic with these patterns | |
| Propagandic with that chatter, matter of fact the Madder Hatter | |
| Never mind the hammer, manners out the window | |
| Pump crescendo, puff the endo, I' m Lou Ferrigno | |
| Just pretendo, don' t ask him where the pen go | |
| Cause the pencil got me paper paid and paydirt made them paint her | |
| With the mask and faded sweat rt, nothing lesser | |
| Bet you' ll never ever guess what I left under the dresser | |
| Hid a message in the 808 to pester all the Heshers |
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