Earl Sweatshirt - Couch Lyrics
[Verse 1: Earl]Uh, was always smartmouthed and quick with itBut something was always missing like six digitsLucky seven probably poppaLittle nigga saw they picked on him hassled himThings changed when I hassled back, soDavid hit the pavement with this Grapple rapSnapple fact, you rather wackWhile I am popping like a snapping crackSo (?) you could see like tallahasse, the opposite of cataractsMatter fact I am Farmer John milking cattle tracksAction packed nipple squeezing, boycotting this sniffle seasonSimple genius, go hard as spit, this is semenSo when the street is splitDon't act surprised, agree with itThe Gang of Wolves and creeps and cripsIs deep as Dawson's Creek and shitI pray they got gills either that or grab some floatiesI know I got skills, why you think I'm post to boastingBragging tell this faggots to stop naggingCause them Wolf Gang niggas throw them off the bandwagon like[Verse 2: Tyler]Uh, was always *****ed up and shit with itBut I didn't cross the line until the bridge hit it.. TrueI got you niggas nervous like virgins flirting with Uncle Mervin*****ing y'all with no lubricant go grab the detergentI preach to demons at your church, now I'm the newest sermonWearing nothing but they *****ing (?) with their magic turbantI drive through white suburbans in the black Suburban swervingHitting curving and blasting every sermon drunk off English BourbonI'm stealing purses raping nurses I'm a quick consiergeAnd true to beat like sanitized nazi pussies, I'm a GermanI'm squirting while I'm masturbating and regurgitatingFrom eating miley cyrus salad ***** platter they were servingMy only purpose is to jerk it cause I has a curseSo *****es hate to do me like ex-convict community serviceThis my Zombie Circus, you better get a *****ing ticketOdd Future Wolf Gang like they're filming Twilight in this *****[Verse 3: Earl]I'm back on my sixty six six shitFlowing like the blood out the competition's slit wristsShe lick it up, Dracula, and spit it back, back at yaShe mad as *****, stuck in the back of a black AcuraFed her ass and now the ducktape quacks back at herHello at the yellow feathers now you ain't laughing, huh[Verse 4: Tyler]***** you're barely breathing living on the back of the boatWhile I fill you up with semen from the Wolf Gang teamingFlowing like the creampie aside of your daughterOughta eat the ***** with salt and wash it down with a gallon of waterI grab the saw and sawed her arm off and auction itAnd different teeth and gold and floss the shit*****ing awesome spitting box of trees, got you niggasShaking like it's Parkinsons from the clitoris of Kelly Clarkson's titIronin you niggas now it's time to start some shitDrown your ***** in a tub of cum and throw a shark in itFind a random abandoned garage and go to park in itFind Earl lying on the burgundy carpet, pull my knife out, sharpen itStab him, put an arch on it, pour a liter of gas on himHit the Zippo and spark the shitHop back in the van and then depart the *****Killed him on his own track, the faggot shouldn't have started it 
