Escucha música Hoarse de Frank Ocean 2025 en línea | Musica Pop

Frank Ocean - Hoarse Lyrics

[Verse 1: Earl Sweatshirt]
Gorgeous, chrome-plated horse whip
Home, making paintings for poor-quality porn flicks
Court adjourned and the verdict's still saucy
Sack swinging like Dub-D40 on a door hinge
Good Lord, walk light like the floor slick
Look bored, hoard all mics in a force grip
Pro-abortion, endorsing his own importance
Or leaving opponents floating with paper and dirty porcelain
Pinnacle of titillating, crisp spit
Fist clenched, emulating '68 Olympics
Rock it from the cradle 'til he middle-age and limp-stick
Coughing from the stable probably indicating spliff's lit
Dismissed, feel it in that saturated cranium
Heavy as insurance off a spanking-new laser gun
Crazy heart, hazy lung, making art, raking funds
Crowd going dumb like Palin's son, ugh

[Chorus: Frank Ocean]
And it always follows autumn
No home for the weak
No insurance for your pride
Jive
Jive
And it always follows autumn
[Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt]
I sit in thought 'til the flow is right
Then throw some D onto all available open mics
Smoke it right, proposing these niggas over
Wipe more because I normally toilet-bowl with a broken pipe, tch
The former soloist who flow was sick
The token sober kid stressed, so the role was switched
Four Lokos down the hole and a loaded spliff
And who was useless as a broken wrist when tryna open shit
Nigga, cold is what you need to keep the poultry in
Resulting in me rolling slick as bottom of the bowling kicks
Early Man, you posers know me as the troll
Throwing moldy donut holes at your grody ho from his cronies' whip
Eating like the kids when you take ‘em off Ritalin
Throwing temper tantrums at the window of your whip again
Sweeping up the glass to use it as a garnish over tracks
Damaged like the leg he limping to the barn with
Chickenshits
Temper 'bout as thick as tips of pencils is
Missiles to the picket fence
Who spit as good as finger-lickin’, bitch?
Bet it's thirty-six fish netted like the hook was inefficient

[Chorus: Frank Ocean]
And it always follows autumn
No home for the weak
No insurance for your pride
Jive
Jive
And it always follows autumn