Earl Sweatshirt, Tyler, The Creator - Couch lyrics

Uh, was always smartmouthed and quick-witted
But somethin' was always missin'
Like six digit's, 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 this grapple rap
Snapple fact: you rather wack
While I am poppin' like a snappin' crack
So high you could see like Tallahass
The opposite of cataracts
Matter fact I am Farmer
John milkin' cattle tracks
Action packed nipple squeezin'
Boy colder than sniffle season
Simple genius
Go hard and spit bit's of semen
So when the street is
Split, don't act surprised, agree with it
The gang of wolves that creeps in crypts
As 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 boastin'?
Braggin', tell these faggots to stop naggin'
'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 flirtin' with Uncle Mervin
Fuckin' y'all with no lubricant
Go grab the detergent
I preach to demons at your church
Now I'm the newest sermon
Wearin' nothin' but they fuckin' blast
With the matchin' turban
I drive through white suburbans in
The black Suburban swervin'
Hittin' curbs and blastin' Erick Sermon
Drunk off English bourbon
I'm stealin' purses, rapin' nurses
I'm a crooked surgeon
And treat the beat like sanitized Nazi puss
I'm a German i'm squirtin' while I'm
Masturbatin' and regurgitatin'
From eatin' Miley Cyrus salad pussy
Platter they were servin'
My only purpose is to jerk it
Cause it has a curve
So bitches hate to do me
Like ex-convict community service
This my Zombie Circus
You better get a fuckin' ticket
Odd Future Wolf Gang
Like they're filmin' Twilight in this bitch

I'm back on my sixty six sick shit
Flowin' 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 laughin', huh?

Bitch, you're barely breathin'
Leavin' on the back of the boat
While I fill you up with semen
From the Wolf Gang team and
Flowin' 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 her
Arm off and auctioned it
And dip her teeth in gold
Molds and flossed the shit
Fuckin' awesome, spittin' box of trees
Got you niggas
Shakin' like it's Parkinsons from the
Clitoris of Kelly Clarkson's dick
Ironin' you niggas now it's time
To starch the 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 laying 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