Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tabula Rasa, artist - Earl Sweatshirt. Date of issue: 13.01.2022
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Tabula Rasa |
| Off the strength I’m not as numb as I thought |
| I’m broken links, my circle shrinking smaller |
| Satellite revolve my coarse culture |
| Surrendered orbits |
| Cross check what’s really real and what’s performance |
| Speak for self but wondering who else really on it |
| Who’s really all in? |
| Trouble calling |
| My phone don’t ping, I’m buzzed, leave me alone |
| Truth with a stashed pocket for a lie |
| The document is alive |
| I speak life |
| Every border gets revised if dissolved |
| With the fines what it’s charged |
| Haven’t made up my mind |
| If I’m assigned to the stars |
| I slide when I walk |
| I’m inside of the funk, trust |
| She want up when it dump |
| It came from the sludge |
| Involuntary, shooting foundations in studs |
| Tears and snot bubbles, sob puddles |
| I, listen |
| Let’s not conflate, I give what I take |
| It’s the hunt, there is the chase |
| Some talk like they never got punched in the face |
| You can’t see clearly now, don’t come near me |
| Wails of the weary, infinite |
| Draw me closer, damn near intimate |
| The flyest sexy |
| I came through over proofing the plastic Pepsi bottle |
| Security didn’t check me |
| Skipped coat check, they planned the oldies |
| Imma go 'head and get sweaty |
| Plus saved the ten piece |
| It’s hell up in Harlem so meet me |
| 'Cross 100 and 10th street |
| That don’t really tempt me |
| I’m from where every car foreign and we drive 'em on empty (Zimbabwe) |
| Bury me in a borrowed suit |
| Give my babies my rhyme books but tell 'em «Do you» |
| Give my enemies the good news, time flew |
| We was probably brothers back then like TRU |
| No jerseys, no durags, hard-bottom shoes |
| Niggas tired of the foolishness |
| No disrespect, its a lotta mids in the room |
| My pack loud, cut right through |
| in the booth |
| So you ain’t get in the stew |
| If the DJ play something smooth (Slide on 'em) |
| It’s a move |
| I don’t dance but maybe tonight |
| Maybe tonight |
| I don’t know her, and I don’t even mind if it is the strobe light |
| Live for the living |
| I made chicken late night in my boxers burning up the kitchen |
| She passed out right when I was done fixing |
| I watch reruns in the dark |
| Fingers and lips glistening |
| I’m so damn proud of myself |
| I did this for you, G. Alright? |
| Been to there and back, talk tales, talk to the breeze |
| We keep facts in the midnight wax |
| Family tree sap |
| Lightly through the leaves on familiar tracks |
| I know it’s real even when I’m feeling bad |
| Resilient as they build to black |
| She shimmy into the yeah, that’s consent gettin' established |
| You only trash if you trash, I keep it simple and dynamic |
| Trust the passage write to life’s chapters |
| I have to write to find balance |
| This game of telephone massive |
| I do what I have to with the fragments |
| The madness method rampant these days |
| I let the panic pass me |
| Featherweight, my heart was straight despite baggage |
| Asymptomatic but I get sicker, the delay’s faster, faster |
| Practicing, practicing what I preach, keep pace |
| The calcium on my teeth fade |
| The streets are blazed with the anger, complacency and deceit create |
| Ice sheet break |
| I couldn’t weak, wait |
| All I could say to the times I couldn’t freeze frame, bleak fate |
| You got so much to bleed to clean slate |
| The bag of tricks in my sleeve breaks |
| Southpaw under the north star |
| Forcing all the league changes |
| Don’t sleep baby |