Earl Sweatshirt - Stapleton

Welcome!! Earl Sweatshirt - Stapleton [verse 1] it's earl, mr. early bird, gets them girls with curvy curves skate mental truck, smack a faggot in his shirley temple your rhymes rentals, give 'em back to they owners at the end of the bar, i spit with the permanents learn i'm a curb stoppin' person like third strike verdict droppin' jaw droppin' verses this bigger lips in person, n*gga spits some ball's ernie shit furnish the flow until my pockets green, kermit's dick the ms. piggy's with a string in they ass i control like 'em like your eyes when i'm takin' a glass so if you thinkin' 'bout this then stop thinkin' it fast cause my wolves ten deep and they knuckles is brass, ho the ms. piggy's with a string in they ass i control like 'em like your eyes when i'm takin' a glass so if you thinkin' 'bout this then stop thinkin' it fast cause my wolves ten deep and they knuckles is brass, b*tch [hook] tell your boyfriend that's a bat and this a migrane don't ask why my jeans splattered with these white stains wait, where you goin', what you doin' tonight? just wanna know what you doin', come back tell your boyfriend that's a bat and this a migrane don't ask why my jeans splattered with these white stains where you goin', what you doin' tonight? stop runnin', where you goin', what you doin'? [verse 2] it's earl, mr. lateshift rapist in trainin' who edge 'bout as straight as some clay-closet gay dick ray say hey earl's a real charming racist your birthday day, have some kk cake b*tch habit have it, grab it fast and attack it, faggot i'm above average like i'm rappin' in the attic, yeah i'm crouched in the basement shoutin' "couch" is the greatest hit dirty as the anus is, fans stand in rain for this they even stand in sleet season 'til they f*ckin' feet bleedin' hail and f*ckin' snow in hell with f*ckin' coats probably wear more layers, there's only one sweatshirt he make 'em bow down 'til they muthaf*ckin' necks hurt fans probably stand in sleet season 'til they f*ckin' feet bleedin' hail and f*ckin' snow in hell with f*ckin' coats probably wear more layers, there's only one sweatshirt he make 'em bow down 'til they muthaf*ckin' necks hurt [hook] [verse 3] mr. deerskin moccasins is on the f*ckin' stalk again followin' and stalkin' all them larchmont soccer chicks choppin' limbs, knawin' legs, through they f*ckin' stockings him his grandfather sweatshirt, clockin' all them cardigans product of popped rubbers and pops that did not love us so when i leave home keep my heart on the top cupboard so i will not stutter when i'm shoutin' f*ck you, son wolf gang 'bout it, we ain't waitin' 'til the moon come woo son, the moonshine got feelin' loose as the puss of a whore who's used to abuse my screws pretty loose mind f*cked like the hair-doos of doo-doo mamas, dude i will bear jew you you unripe fruit dudes is crews to chew through my n*ggas wash 'em down with a fat carton of yoo-hoo odd future wolf gang kill them all f*ck 'em all no lube, it's the crew to get use to, faggot