Stapleton

(Album: Earl - 2010)

[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 stopping person
Like third strike verdict dropping jaw dropping verses
This bigger lips in person, nigga 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 taking a glass
So if you thinking 'bout this then stop thinking 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 taking a glass
So if you thinking 'bout this then 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 migrane
Don't ask why my jeans splattered with these white stains
Wait, where you going, what you doing tonight?
Just wanna know what you doing, 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 going, what you doing tonight?
Stop running, where you going, what you doin'?

[Verse 2]
It's Earl, Mr. Lateshift Rapist in training
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 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 the anus is, fans stand in rain for this
They even stand in sleet season 'til they fucking feet bleeding
Hail and fucking snow in hell with fucking coats
Probably wear more layers, there's only one Sweatshirt
He make 'em bow down 'til they muthafucking necks hurt
Fans probably stand in sleet season 'til they fucking feet bleeding
Hail and fucking snow in hell with fucking coats
Probably wear more layers, there's only one Sweatshirt
He make 'em bow down 'til they muthafucking necks hurt

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Mr. Deerskin Moccasins is on the fucking stalk again
Following and stalking all them larchmont soccer chicks
Chopping limbs, knawing legs, through they fucking stockings
Him his grandfather sweatshirt, clocking 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 shouting fuck you, son
Wolf Gang 'bout it, we ain't waiting 'til the moon come
Woo son, the moonshine got feeling 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