Stapleton

[Produced by Branden BeatBoy] [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 permanence 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 urn 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 dissing 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 dissing, stop thinking it fast Cause my wolves ten deep and they knuckles is brass, bitch [Hook] 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? [Verse 2] 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 proud to 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 [Hook] [Verse 3] 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 is 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 feelin' loose As the puss of a whore who's used to abuse My screws 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