Stapleton Lyrics - Earl Sweatshirt

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 stomping person 

Like third strike verdict dropping jaw dropping verses 

This bigger lips in person, nigga spits some burn so earn the shit 

Furnish the flow until my pockets green, Kermit's dick 

The Miss Piggies with a string in they ass 

I control them like your eyes when I'm tinking a glass 

So if you thinking about this then stop thinking it fast 

Cause my wolves ten deep and they knuckles is brass, ho 

The Miss Piggies with a string in they ass 

I control them like your eyes when I'm tinking a glass 

So if you thinking about this then stop thinking it fast 

Cause my wolves ten deep and they knuckles is brass, bitch 

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Tell your boyfriend that's a bat and this a migraine 

Don't ask why my jeans splattered with these white stains 

Wait, where you going, what you doing tonight? 

Just want to know what you doing, come back 

Tell your boyfriend that's a bat and this a migraine 

Don't ask why my jeans splattered with these white stains 

Where you going, what you doing tonight? 

Stop running, where you going, what you doing? 

It's Earl, Mr. Lateshift, rapist in training 

Who edge about as straight as some clay closet gay dick 

Ray say hey Earl's a real charming racist 

Your birthday day, have some KK cake bitch 

Habit have it, grab it fast and attack it, faggot 

I'm above average like I'm rapping in the attic, yeah 

I'm crouched in the basement shouting "Couch" is the greatest hit 

Dirty as a anus is, fans stand in rain for this 

They even stand in sleet season until they fucking feet bleeding 

Hail and fucking snow, in hell with fucking coats 

Probably wear more layers, there's only one Sweatshirt 

He make them bow down until they mothafucking necks hurt 

Fans probably stand in sleet season until they fucking feet bleeding 

Hail and fucking snow, in hell with fucking coats 

Probably wear more layers, there's only one Sweatshirt 

He make them bow down 'til they mothafucking necks hurt 

Photos 

Tell your boyfriend that's a bat and this a migraine 

Don't ask why my jeans splattered with these white stains 

Wait, where you going, what you doing tonight? 

Just want to know what you doing, come back (Please) 

Tell your boyfriend that's a bat and this a migraine 

Don't ask why my jeans splattered with these white stains 

Where you going, what you doing tonight? 

Stop running, where you going, what you doing? 

Mr. Deerskin Moccasins is on the fucking stalk again 

Following and stalking all them larchmont soccer chicks 

Chopping limbs, gnawing legs, through they fuckin' 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' fuck you, son 

Wolf Gang 'bout it, we ain't waitin' 'til the moon come 

Woo son, the moonshine got me feelin' loose 

As the puss of a whore who's used to abuse 

My screw's pretty loose mind fucked like the hair-doos 

Of doo-doo mamas, dude I will bear jew you 

You unripe fruit dudes is crews to chew through 

My niggas wash 'em down with a fat carton of yoo-hoo 

Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All fuck 'em all 

No lube, it's the crew to get use to, faggot