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Rats Lyrics - Singles - Earl Sweatshirt

Yeah bitch 

Wolf Gang, Sweatshirt, ho 

 

'94 black music, beat a preacher's ass to it 

Honor class crack movement, you faggots is ass chewin' 

New black Rasputin get these hoes loose 

As your back tooth with a Kimbo jab to it 

Fuck y'all, they can't handle the fact 

That I am not yet a man, I'm manhandlin' tracks 

Tell these fags that the lip chapped champion's back 

Wolf cack is up the ass of the tabbiest cat 

My hands on my sock, I'm Pop, Crackle and Snap 

Get it poppin' off, pop a couple Xan in some class 

Smoke a little hash with my favorite janitor's ass 

And beat my teacher 'til she gives my fuckin' mannequins back, bitch 

Pigeon blood'll leave the stool wall shitted up 

Shit talk, Myrtle fuck, get your little sister fucked 

Shit, I'll hit stripper up to go and pick a different slut 

To stick inside them fuckin' pots where we brew them bitches up 

Eyes hazy with my middle finger up a stripper's cunt 

Lights down, lit her up, sherm in my sippy cup 

Ice pickin' cripples 'til I get my Tommy Pickle rub 

Catch me poppin' pimples, tellin' bitches triple 6 is us 

Stabbin' 'em with pencils in their temples 'til my dick erupts 

It's really fuckin' simple, slut, Wolf Gang, get with us 

Either that or grab a full fist of nuts and lick 'em up 

Turn it up, fisticuffs, givin' bitches dick to suck 

Let 'em drink the cum out a mothafuckin' paper cup 

Whores wider than the horse that I'm sniffin' up 

Leave now if you ain't tryna get them titties touched 

 

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We the best and I'm provin' it 

Competition missin' like the braids of fuckin' Ludacris 

Mop duplicates, get socked in the uterus 

For steppin' in the section of them Odd Future hooligans 

Psych, I'll take your uterine, hula hoop with it 

Backslap her with a tube of lubricant 

Tape it and take it to Ace's so we can do this shit 

Carjack her parents' coupe and take a cruise in it 

(?), Youtube the shit 

Cut the bullshit what you forgot, (?) 

Now you're pouting cause I'm playin' your pussy like it's a tuba, bitch 

Too foul, loose bowels, get used to it 

So point me to the nearest booth so I can poop in it 

 

Photos 

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Artist: Yelawolf