Music Video

SWEET - BROCKHAMPTON
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Featured In

Listen to Sweet - Single by BROCKHAMPTON
ALBUMSweet - SingleBROCKHAMPTON
Listen to BROCKHAMPTON Essentials featuring BROCKHAMPTON
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Listen to Ep. 38 The Echo Chamber Playlist featuring BROCKHAMPTON
PLAYLISTEp. 38 The Echo Chamber PlaylistThe Echo Chamber
Listen to triple j's Hottest 200 of the Decade: 2010s featuring BROCKHAMPTON
PLAYLISTtriple j's Hottest 200 of the Decade: 2010sApple Music
Listen to Big Freedia: Live Loud featuring BROCKHAMPTON
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Listen to Request: September 18th, 2017 featuring BROCKHAMPTON
PLAYLISTRequest: September 18th, 2017Apple Music
Listen to Avril Jensen: Influences featuring BROCKHAMPTON
PLAYLISTAvril Jensen: InfluencesApple Music

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ameer Vann
Ameer Vann
Vocals
Dom McLennon
Dom McLennon
Vocals
Kevin Abstract
Kevin Abstract
Vocals
Matthew Champion
Matthew Champion
Vocals
Merlyn Wood
Merlyn Wood
Vocals
Romil Hemnani
Romil Hemnani
Programming
Russell Boring
Russell Boring
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ameer Vann
Ameer Vann
Songwriter
Dominique Simpson
Dominique Simpson
Songwriter
Ian Simpson
Ian Simpson
Songwriter
Matthew Champion
Matthew Champion
Songwriter
Russell Boring
Russell Boring
Songwriter
William Wood
William Wood
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jabari Manwa
Jabari Manwa
Producer
Kevin Abstract
Kevin Abstract
Creative Director
Kiko Merley
Kiko Merley
Producer
Romil Hemnani
Romil Hemnani
Producer
Russell Boring
Russell Boring
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Stripped down to my skin and my bones I love huskies but I feel like a wolf (howl!) In a pack but I feel all alone I'm scatterbrained, man, better offer the clon' In Tejas apartments with racists doin' weird shit Like, this'll make the biopic (haha) Rile 'em up, hit Zaxby's, get the wing and tings (yum) Real quick, bills still stackin' to the ceilin' (uh-oh) Whatchu mean, it ain't workin'? (what?) Whatchu mean, you ain't findin' yourself? (oh, I am, I'm tryin') Whatchu mean, you ain't got no cash? (I got a little bit) Whatchu mean? Whatchu mean? Shouldn't your pockets be big just like a fat chick? (uh-huh) Shouldn't your mama be done payin' the house off? (I guess) Shouldn't you have a real big-ass ego? (no) Shouldn't these girls be flockin' just like seagulls? (eh) Twistin' me up like licorice Think I need someone who can handle it Ice on my boys and my wrist is fixed I don't need nobody tryna give me shit Twistin' me up like licorice Think I need someone who can handle it Ice on my boys and my wrist is fixed I don't need nobody tryna give me shit The original lick-splickety, higher than Yosemite Breakin' the mold mentally, master with no limitin' Makin' 'em say, "Ugh!", they worshippin' our force viciously Watchin' the floor tip in your temple of authenticity Often they say I'm off it, I offer my crossed empathy They forgot what we on, I'll remind 'em with hostility Hot-diggity damn, everyone runnin' scams Gotta cover your clams and take another glance Runnin' a clinic, no scans, ain't no one claimin' yo mans It's all pertainin' to plan, call me the architect Lap you in a UFO, I haven't started yet Still gotta figure out exactly where to park it at Moses with the pen, each line an ocean I can part it at But that's too deep Don't call me stupid That ain't the way my name pronounced Don't call me Cupid I got too many hoes right now Poolside in Houston Tryna see if Beyoncé will take me for adoption Broke-ass rich suburbs A civilian shot in Third Ward, we just by the fountain This is Merlyn Wood, man Everywhere I go is the woodlands I need a honeybutter Vodka in a Sprite can When I'm in the Whataburger All the kids know who I am I need a honeybutter Pourin lean in my Sprite can Twistin' me up like licorice Think I need someone who can handle it Ice on my boys and my wrist is fixed I don't need nobody tryna give me shit Twistin' me up like licorice Think I need someone who can handle it Ice on my boys and my wrist is fixed I don't need nobody tryna give me shit I got a record but I'm clean as they come I'm Godzilla, when they see me, they run On 37th, used to run from the bloods The undercovers gotta duck when they come I moved out and in a couple of months I'ma be a pop star, they call me a thug I used to write raps on the back of the bus Now I'm in the front seat shiftin' the gears It's funny how things can change Three hundred dollars to my name, led to Hollywood I was livin' off Ramen and change Five hundred dollars on these dinners, never have to pay Growin' up my teachers told me "You better get them grades up if you wanna finish high school And after high school, you better get a degree 'Cause it's a dog-eat-dog world, you could live in the street" Flashback, I had my Walkman in the minivan Listenin' to *NSYNC, saw my name on the CD Bleach blond tips, wanted to be JT Wanted to do big things, had to fulfill a dream One might say I was doomed from the get-go But those same people assume, 'cause they'll never know What it's like to be called to what's not set in stone I am one with the ebb and flow, that's all I know Twistin' me up like licorice Think I need someone who can handle it Ice on my boys and my wrist is fixed I don't need nobody tryna give me shit Twistin' me out like licorice Think I need someone who can handle it Ice on my boys and my wrist is fixed I don't need nobody tryna give me shit Twistin' me up like licorice Think I need someone who can handle it Ice on my boys and my wrist is fixed I don't need nobody tryna give me shit Twistin' me out like licorice Think I need someone who can handle it Ice on my boys and my wrist is fixed I don't need nobody tryna give me shit
Writer(s): Dominique Simpson, Isaiah Merriweather, Matthew Garrett Champion, Romil Hemnani, William Anku Kraka Mawuli Ando Wood, Ameer Vann, Jabari Manwarring, Clifford Simpson, Russell Evan Boring Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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