Couch (feat. Tyler, The Creator) (исполнитель: Earl Sweatshirt)
Was always smart mouthed and quick witted But something was always missing like six digits Lucky seven, probably papa Little [bad word] so they picked on him, hassled him Things changed when I hassled back so David hit the pavement with this grapple rap Snapple ? and rather wack While I am talking like I snap ? So high you can see like ? 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, this is [bad word] So when the street is spit, don’t act surprised, agree with it gang of wolves and creeps and crips Is deep as Dawson’s Creek and [bad word] I pray that God gives Either that or grab some floaties I know I got skills, why you think I’m posted boasting? Bragging, tell these [bad word] to stop nagging Cause them Wolf Gang niggas threw em off the bandwagon like [Verse 2] Was always [bad word] up as [bad word] with it But I didn’t cross the line until the bridge hit it I got you niggas nervous like virgins flirting with uncle Mervin [bad word] y’all with no lubricant, go grab the detergent I preach to demons at your church now I’m the newest sermon ? but they [bad word] ? with the magic turban I drive through white suburbans in the black Suburban swerving Hitting curbs and blasting ? [bad word] off ? burbon I’m stealing purses, raping nurses, I won’t quit ? ? sanitized ? I’m a German I’m squirting while I [bad word] and regurgitate From eating Miley [bad word] out [bad word] platter they were serving My only purpose is to jerk it cause I has a curse So [bad word] hate to do me like it’s [bad word] service This my zombie circus, you better get a [bad word] ticket I future Wolf Gang like they forming twilight in this [bad word] [Verse 3] I’m back on my six to six sick [bad word] Flowing like the blood out [bad word] s slit wrist She lick it up, Dracula, then spit it back back at ya She mad as [bad word] 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 hun [Verse 4] [bad word] you barely breathing, leaving on the back of the boat Where I fill you up with [bad word] from the Wolf Gang team and Flowing like the creampie inside your daughter Ought to eat the [bad word] with salt and wash it down with a gallon of water I grab the saw and saw the arm off and auction it And dip her teeth in gold ? and floss the [bad word] [bad word] awesome spitting ? trees got you niggas shaking like it’s Parkinson’s From the clitoris of Kelly Clarkson’s [bad word] I am in you niggas now it’s time to starts the [bad word] Drown your [bad word] in the tub with [bad word] 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 em) Put ? in it, pour unleaded gas on em Get the Zippo and spark the [bad word] Hop back in the van and then depart the [bad word] Killed him on his own track, the [bad word] shouldn’t have started it