Music Video

Earl Sweatshirt - The Mint (feat. Navy Blue)
Watch {trackName} music video by {artistName}

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Earl Sweatshirt
Earl Sweatshirt
Vocals
Navy Blue
Navy Blue
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Thebe Kgositsile
Thebe Kgositsile
Songwriter
Sage Elsesser
Sage Elsesser
Songwriter
Robert Mansel
Robert Mansel
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Thebe Kgositsile
Thebe Kgositsile
Mixing Engineer
Black Noi$e
Black Noi$e
Producer
Shamel of SOTC
Shamel of SOTC
Mixing Engineer
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

Yup, yup, that's right I'm runnin' things, I'm runnin' things Hold me down, hold me up Hold me close 'cause my times is up Show they true colors, don't know who to trust Mind workin' like the water when it rush Grownin' from my father, bitter to his touch Now I'm solely honor, livin' is a must All this for my momma 'til I'm dust God gon' deal the karma, lost my trust Sayin': "Every man know many men" Got me in a jam, I be in my feelings On the other hand, I just need a moment Offer my condolence, smokin' 'til the mornin' Brodie on the corner with a piece on his hip Give a warning 'fore you blow it in the sky Tiptoein' over mortar and the brick Bumpin' shoulders with the devil in disguise Shoulder-level water on the rise Twist, 40s in the morning in the winter I heard you got your sauce at the enterprise Evidently, it was rented but it's mine Evidently, it was written like Nas I was in the kitchen with that nigga Mike Gotta listen when I tell ya simmer down Two years I've been missin', livin' life You was wildin', every day was trash Crackers pilin' in to rape the land Early morning, wash my swollen hands Hit the showers, cleanse my soul and crash Tiptoein' over glass, brodie go too fast, told him slow up Know I use too much of everything at hand Except the difference is now I control it, I be In the crib and in the moment, stuck sippin' out the flask Feet up on the dash, I hit the spliff but don't promote it Under overpass, no cap Sand fallin' out the hourglass Grand total, it's a whole lotta raps Quicksand, scramblin' outta that Go behind the back, switch hands The fare's high, niggas know they outta wack Sterilize your clique, paralyze maritime niggas when Every time Wavy Don tappin' in Savion Glover caught a couple Ls Took 'em to the neck, motherfucker Lotta blood to let, peace to make, fuck a check Uh-uh, lotta blood to let, peace to make, give a fuck about a check Lotta blood to let, peace to make, give a fuck about a check Uh-uh, lotta blood to let, peace to make, give a fuck about a Nigga, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, maybe
Writer(s): Thebe Kgositsile, Sage Elesser, Robert Mansel Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out