hurry i got nuts to bust and butts to fuck

sly tendencies - gold

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Earl Sweatshirt - Rats (Full Version) (Prod. By Tyler, The Creator)

FUK IT (2009) [Prod. Left Brain]

Yo, mankind stands at the edge of its own design,
half‑awake creatures with a universe in mind.
We sculpt illusions, then forget they’re ours,
bow to shadows we carved in prehistoric hours.

We inherit blueprints drawn by trembling hands,
ancient fears encoded into modern plans.
But the truth is simple — we’re the ones who choose,
and the world we inherit is the world we produce.

Rise up, creators, the architects of the impossible,
the dreamers who see the invisible as plausible.
The future ain’t written — it’s waiting for a spark,
and you’re the ignition that cuts through the dark.

Yo, every system we follow is a story we told,
a myth that calcified, a belief that got old.
We treat our inventions like laws of the land,
forgetting they crumble the moment we stand.

We’re not bound by the scripts of forgotten kings,
we’re the species that upgrades everything.
We cracked the atom, we mapped the mind,
yet we still act trapped by a world long behind.

But the veil is thin, the illusion weak,
the moment we question, the moment we speak.
The trance dissolves, the gears align,
and the world reshapes at the speed of mind.

Rise up, creators, the architects of the impossible,
the dreamers who see the invisible as plausible.
The future ain’t written — it’s waiting for a spark,
and you’re the ignition that cuts through the dark.

Yo, the tools of tomorrow are already here,
but the vision is missing, clouded by fear.
We scroll through wonders with vacant eyes,
forgetting we’re built to strategize.

The problem ain’t power — it’s imagination,
a species asleep at the dawn of creation.
But the moment we dare to redesign the frame,
the world catches fire in a brand‑new flame.

Yo, we could build habitats that orbit the sun,
feed every child, leave no dream undone.
We could terraform deserts, rewrite the sky,
turn scarcity’s whisper into abundance’s cry.

We could craft a civilisation that never divides,
a species united on evolutionary tides.
But none of that happens till the thinkers engage,
till the brilliant step out from the cultural cage.

Rise up, creators, the architects of the impossible,
the dreamers who see the invisible as plausible.
The future ain’t written — it’s waiting for a spark,
and you’re the ignition that cuts through the dark.

Yo, you’re not just a witness — you’re part of the scheme,
a node in the network of the planetary dream.
The moment you speak, the moment you act,
the world recalibrates — that’s a cosmic fact.

So step into the myth, step into the role,
help build the blueprint that makes mankind whole.
The dream is alive, the horizon is wide — a
nd the architects of the impossible are already inside.

Earl

EarlSweater

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