Couch - Earl Sweatshirt feat Tyler the Creator
[Verse 1: Earl]
Uh, was always smartmouthed and quick-witted
But something was always missing like six digits
Lucky seven probably poppa
Little n_gga 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 sh_t
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 n_ggas threw them off the bandwagon like
[Verse 2: Tyler]
Uh, was always f_cked up as sh_t with it
But I didn't cross the line until the bridge hit it.. Troll
I got you n_ggas nervous like virgins flirting with Uncle Mervin
F_cking 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 f_cking 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 p_ssy platter they were serving
My only purpose is to jerk it cause it has a curve
So b_tches hate to do me like it's convict community service
This my Zombie Circus, you better get a f_cking ticket
Odd Future Wolf Gang like they're filming Twilight in this b_tch
[Verse 3: Earl]
I'm back on my sixty six six sh_t
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 f_ck, 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
[Verse 4: Tyler]
B_tch 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 b_tch 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 sh_t
F_cking awesome spitting box of trees, got you n_ggas
Shaking like it's Parkinsons from the clitoris of Kelly Clarkson's d_ck
Ironing you n_ggas now it's time to start some sh_t
Drown your b_tch 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 sh_t
Hop back in the van and then depart the b_tch
Killed him on his own track, the faggot shouldn't have started it
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