Lyrics Couch - Earl Sweatshirt
Uh,
was
always
smartmouthed
and
quick-witted
But
something
was
always
missing
like
six
digits
Lucky
seven
probably
poppa
Little
nigga
so
they
picked
on
him,
hassled
him
Things
changed
when
I
hassled
back,
so
David
hit
the
pavement
with
his
grapple
rap
Snapple
fact:
you
rather
wack
While
I
am
popping
like
a
snapping
crack
So
high
you
could
see
like
Tallahass,
the
opposite
of
cataracts
Matter
fact
I
am
Farmer
John
milking
cattle
tracks
Action
packed
nipple
squeezing,
boy
colder
than
sniffle
season
Simple
genius,
go
hard
and
spit
bits
of
semen
So
when
the
street
is
split
Don't
act
surprised,
agree
with
it
The
Gang
of
Wolves
and
creeps
and
Crips
Is
deep
as
Dawson's
Creek
and
shit
I
pray
they
got
gills
either
that
or
grab
some
floaties
I
know
I
got
skills,
why
you
think
I'm
posted
boasting
Bragging
tell
this
faggots
to
stop
nagging
Cause
them
Wolf
Gang
niggas
threw
them
off
the
bandwagon
like
Uh,
was
always
fucked
up
as
shit
with
it
But
I
didn't
cross
the
line
until
the
bridge
hit
it...
Troll
I
got
you
niggas
nervous
like
virgins
flirting
with
Uncle
Mervin
Fucking
y'all
with
no
lubricant
go
grab
the
detergent
I
preach
to
demons
at
your
church,
now
I'm
the
newest
sermon
Wearing
nothing
but
they
fucking
blast
with
their
matching
turban
I
drive
through
white
suburbans
in
the
black
Suburban
swerving
Hitting
curbs
and
blasting
Erick
Sermon
drunk
off
English
Bourbon
I'm
stealing
purses
raping
nurses
I'm
a
quick
consierge
And
treat
the
beat
like
sanitized
nazi
pussies,
I'm
a
German
I'm
squirting
while
I'm
masturbating
and
regurgitating
From
eating
Miley
Cyrus
salad
pussy
platter
they
were
serving
My
only
purpose
is
to
jerk
it
cause
it
has
a
curve
So
bitches
hate
to
do
me
like
it's
convict
community
service
This
my
Zombie
Circus,
you
better
get
a
fucking
ticket
Odd
Future
Wolf
Gang
like
they're
filming
Twilight
in
this
bitch
I'm
back
on
my
sixty
six
six
shit
Flowing
like
the
blood
out
the
competition's
slit
wrists
She
lick
it
up,
Dracula,
then
spit
it
back,
back
at
ya
She
mad
as
fuck,
stuck
in
the
back
of
a
black
Acura
Fed
her
acid
now
the
duct
tape
quacks
back
at
her
Hello
Heather
yellow
feathers
now
you
ain't
laughing,
huh
Bitch
you're
barely
breathing
leaving
on
the
back
of
the
boat
While
I
fill
you
up
with
semen
from
the
Wolf
Gang
team
and
Flowing
like
the
creampie
inside
of
your
daughter
Oughta
eat
the
bitch
with
salt
and
wash
it
down
with
a
gallon
of
water
I
grab
the
saw
and
sawed
of
her
arm
and
auctioned
it
And
dip
her
teeth
in
gold
molds
and
flossed
the
shit
Fucking
awesome
spitting
box
of
trees,
got
you
niggas
Shaking
like
it's
Parkinsons
from
the
clitoris
of
Kelly
Clarkson's
dick
Ironing
you
niggas
now
it's
time
to
start
some
shit
Drown
your
bitch
in
a
tub
of
cum
and
throw
a
shark
in
it
Find
a
random
abandoned
garage
and
go
to
park
in
it
Find
Earl
lying
on
the
burgundy
carpet,
pull
my
knife
out,
sharpen
it
Stab
him,
put
a
arch
on
it,
pour
unleaded
gas
on
him
Get
the
Zippo
and
spark
the
shit
Hop
back
in
the
van
and
then
depart
the
bitch
Killed
him
on
his
own
track,
the
faggot
shouldn't
have
started
it
![Earl Sweatshirt - Best Version](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/l/1/b/6/ngta7c6b1l.jpg)
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