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earl sweatshirt - couch lyrics

“couch”
(feat. tyler the creator)

[verse 1: earl]
uh, was always smartmouthed and quick-witted
but something was always missing like six digits
lucky seven probably poppa
little n-gg- so they picked on him, h-ssled him
things changed when i h-ssled back, so
david hit the pavement with his grapple rap
snapple fact: you rather wack
while i am popping like a snapping crack
so high you could see like tallah-ss, the opposite of cataracts
matter fact i am farmer john milking cattle tracks
action packed nipple squeezing, boy colder than sniffle season
simple genius, go hard and spit bits of s-m-n
so when the street is split
don’t act surprised, agree with it
the gang of wolves and creeps and crips
is deep as dawson’s creek and sh-t
i pray they got gills either that or grab some floaties
i know i got skills, why you think i’m posted boasting
bragging tell this f-ggots to stop nagging
cause them wolf gang n-gg-s threw them off the bandwagon like

[verse 2: tyler]
uh, was always f-cked up as sh-t with it
but i didn’t cross the line until the bridge hit it.. troll
i got you n-gg-s nervous like virgins flirting with uncle mervin
f-cking y’all with no lubricant go grab the detergent
i preach to demons at your church, now i’m the newest sermon
wearing nothing but they f-cking blast with their matching turban
i drive through white suburbans in the black suburban swerving
hitting curbs and blasting erick sermon drunk off english bourbon
i’m stealing purses raping nurses i’m a quick consierge
and treat the beat like sanitized n-z- p-ss-es, i’m a german
i’m squirting while i’m masturbating and regurgitating
from eating miley cyrus salad p-ssy platter they were serving
my only purpose is to jerk it cause it has a curve
so b-tches hate to do me like it’s convict community service
this my zombie circus, you better get a f-cking ticket
odd future wolf gang like they’re filming twilight in this b-tch

[verse 3: earl]
i’m back on my sixty six six sh-t
flowing like the blood out the compet-tion’s slit wrists
she lick it up, dracula, then spit it back, back at ya
she mad as f-ck, stuck in the back of a black acura
fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her
h-llo heather yellow feathers now you ain’t laughing, huh

[verse 4: tyler]
b-tch you’re barely breathing leaving on the back of the boat
while i fill you up with s-m-n from the wolf gang team and
flowing like the creampie inside of your daughter
oughta eat the b-tch with salt and wash it down with a gallon of water
i grab the saw and sawed of her arm and auctioned it
and dip her teeth in gold molds and flossed the sh-t
f-cking awesome spitting box of trees, got you n-gg-s
shaking like it’s parkinsons from the cl-toris of kelly clarkson’s d-ck
ironing you n-gg-s now it’s time to start some sh-t
drown your b-tch in a tub of c-m and throw a shark in it
find a random abandoned garage and go to park in it
find earl lying on the burgundy carpet, pull my knife out, sharpen it
stab him, put a arch on it, pour unleaded gas on him
get the zippo and spark the sh-t
hop back in the van and then depart the b-tch
killed him on his own track, the f-ggot shouldn’t have started it

- earl sweatshirt lyrics

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