Best Tuning App Ever
MaddProfessor"
I’ve downloaded many tuning apps before and this one is by far the best. Easy to use, super user-friendly, and they have a bunch of fun different chords and songs to help you learn new music. I highly recommend.
Hive easy guitar chords by Earl Sweatshirt
N/A•
Guitar
Tuning
E A D G B E
Capo
Fret 1
Capo
Transpose
0
Capo
C
Em
F
Am
Eb
G
C
Em
F
Am
Eb
G
Verse 1
Promise
Her
on
I'll put
my
fist
up
after
I
get
my
dick
sucked
Quick
buck,
maybe
a
gold
chain
With that
fucking
flow
that
s-s-so
belittles
belittles
belittles
men
They tentatively
tend
to turn
and go
when
I
am
finished
Stone
cold,
hardly
fucking
with
these
niggas,
nigga
listen
The description
doesn't
fit,
if
not
a syn
onym
of menace,
then
forget
it
In
turn,
these
critics
an
d interns
admitting
the
shit
spit
It
just
burn
like
six
furnaces
writ
it
It af
fixed
learning
them
di
gits,
and sim
ultaneously
"Dispelling
one-trick-pony
myths,
myths,
myths,
isn't
he?"
One
adolescent,
fuck
ing six-nigga
energy
energy
And crawling
down
fax
like
a
rich
nigga
centipede
Crack
ceram
ic
and slap
a hand
out
of cash
account
Stamp
and shouting,
thrash
ing,
these
niggas
done
let
the
Kraken
out
Crack-a-lackin',
like like
like
snap,
crackle,
pop
pin'
your
ammo
off
Hide
your
face,
and throw
your
flannels
off,
Sweatshirt, nigga
(Sweatshirt, nigga)
Verse 2
'87 roof
top,
Bronson
Whipping
hoopties tryna
boost
raw
chronic
(Brutus in that
booth,
double
scoop,
hock
vomit
up)
(Sub rocking,
thud
knocking
niggas
teeth
loose)
Bruh, I
don't
fuck
with
no
cop
(Rolling with
that
flow
swamp)
Catch
me
over
stove
top
(Rapping to
that
coke
rock)
(Pas
sionless in
old
Jive
clothing
With
them
door
s wide
open)
(Dim the floor
lights,
focused)
Like
it's nothing,
cause
it's
nothing,
bitch
Verse 3
From
a city
that's
recession-hit
With
With
stress
niggas
could flex
metal
with,
peddle
to rake
pennies
in
Desolate
testaments
trying
to
stay
Jekyll-ish
But
But
most
niggas
Hyde,
and
Brenda
just stay
pregnant
Breaking
news: death's
less
import
ant
when
the Laker
s lose
There's
lead
in
that
baby
food,
head
s
try
to make
it through
Fish-netted
legs
leg
s for
them
eye
s that
she
cater
to
Ride
dirty
as the
fucking
sky
that
you
praying
to
So
here I
sit,
eye
in
the pyram
id
God
spit
it like
it's truth
ser
um
in that
beer
an
d then
Disappear
again,
re
appear
bearded
On
top
of
a
lear,
steering
it
into
the
kids' ear
again
Provider
of the
back
drop
music
For
the
crack
rock
user
and
the
mas
cot,
Earl
Rawer
than the
skinned
knee
cap
on the
blacktop
Salivary
glands,
lighter
fluid
for
the matchbox
Striking,
wait,
wait,
who the
fuck
you badder
than?
Boy
oh boy,
I'm bad
as burnt
pol
lo
off
the
grill
and shit
Spitter
of
the
Little
Nick,
nimble,
rickrolling
Bitch niggas
pick
litter,
piff-blower,
plus
plus
I
pillage
shit
Verse 4
'87 roof
top,
Bronson
Whipping
hoopties tryna
boost
raw
chronic
(Brutus in that
booth,
double
scoop,
hock
vomit
up)
(Sub rocking,
thud
knocking
niggas
teeth
loose)
Bruh, I
don't
fuck
with no
cop
(Rolling with
that
flow
swamp)
Catch
me
over
stove
top
(Rapping to
that
coke
rock
)
(Passionless in
old
Jive
clothing
With
them
door
s wide
open)
(Dim the floor
lights,
focused)
Like
it's nothing,
cause
it's
nothing,
bitch
Quit
with all
that
tough
talk,
Verse 5
bruh, we
know
you
niggas
ain't
about
shit
Come
around,
we
gun
'em
down,
bodies
piled,
Auschwitz
Bulletproof
outfits,
weapons
concealed
I'm
ready
to kill,
so
test
it,
all
my
weapons
is
real
Selling
thizz, couldn't
tell
him what
the recipe
is
Got
'em wishing
that
they
never
gave
these weapon
s to
kids,
cheers
Send
chills
up
spines
of fat
bitches
after
Shows
throwing
out
sandwiches,
niggas
get
it how
they
Live
and
I
live
for
money,
other
words,
I'm
getting
money
Little
boy
told
me
when
it's time
to ride,
they'll send
them
for
me
Ain't nobody
scaring
me,
niggas
ain't prepared
for
heat
Tools
hit
like
pool
sticks,
the
way
I cue
shit
If
this
was
'88, I would
have
signed
to Ruth
less
Nine-four,
would've
would've
had
them
walk
ing down
Death
Row
First
is when
the
best
go,
hate
is what
the
rest
do
Voice
inside
my
head
told
me,
"Wet
'em
if
they
test
you"
So
it's
Raging
Waters
season
That
yomper big
as Larry
Johnson,
leave
your
momma
seedless
Everybody
hard
un
til
it's
only
God
they
seeing
Kittens
soft
but in
they
songs
be trapping
hard
as
Jeezy, I don't
believe
it
But
to
each
his
own,
I
ain't
tripping
long
as I
can
reach
the
chrome
Heat
your
home
like
Southern
California
Gas,
police
pass
Tell
'em "Free
Small
s,"
off
Palm
with
the
heat
drawn
Strapped
up
long
as
the
chief
for
police
armed
Raised
where
the beasts
are,
north
of the
Beach
A couple
streets
past
Baby
J,
bony
niggas
spraying
Ks
Ruger with
the
pork
face,
Jewish
for
the
court
case
Here
to save
you
niggas
from
the sorbet,
Coldchain
Verse 6
Like
it's nothing,
cause
it's
nothing,
bitch
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