Skut lyrics

[Intro]
So many good reviews off of bast*rd
I celebrated getting masturbated by my pastor
Now he's in a plastic, on the kitchen table
Near a bowl of Lucky Charms and the newest Thrasher

[Verse 1]
When I say Wolf Gang, you say f*ck that
Room full of wolves, inhalers and used blunt wraps
Fingers in the middle of b*tches bodacious butt cracks
Enough f*cking atheist rappers to get a nun slapped
Um, that's not a potato, give me my gun back
Before I blast bigger than pimples on Big Pun's back
Black fat b*tches was washin' on my dishes
And using my large stick on her lips like my c*m's chapped
I love Jews but I hate faggots
And b*tches who be nagging about me taking the trash out
I got a f*ckin' can of whoop ass, who wants to pack it?
Going ape sh*t in the newest Bape straight jacket
With six di*ks and chapsticks, thicker than my black lips
Six sippie cups full of sick sh*t enhancements
Wolf Gang spit right
Ain't been this much f*ckin' crack rock music since Freeway had a Flipside (Damn)
So get low, lower than a ditch
I'm with some retarded b*tch, hoping she know how to kiss slow
They know, I'm the clinic's aid and I'm sick
So they clap for me kinda like a herpe on the lip
With some tutor b*tch, tryna tickle with her cooter
This b*tch acting I still did not know with it
Until I put this c*ck on, the end of clitoris
f*cking this game, I used this sh*t as spit as lubricant
So who you with? (Umm, f*ck you)
I got this f*ckin' gun, you better say "Yes", you stupid b*tch
Before you lose your wrist and Richard make you chew some di*k
I'm f*cking crazy, well I guess I am if these shoes will fit (Aah)
f*ck the Key club, they wanna ban 'em
I got f*cking fans from Compton to Montana
To Indiana, where deaf dwarfs still don't understand 'em
Because yelling at midgets is like me beefing with Brandun (f*ck him)
Stomp 'em out, with these crab ass Nikes
Make it look like some slob, scribbled all on his white Tee
Invite me, come on, you got a better chance to getting Shake
My dad and Earl's motherf*ckin' momma to like me (b*tch)
Animals is farming you, Patrick, this is barnacles
Sandy gave Ace a sponge job at the carnivals
And SpongeBob got his head knocked from the first that Ace got
n*gga's soft as baby c*ck in a cotton swab
[Verse 2]
This that f*ck music, but you shouldn't f*ck to it
Shouldn't give one when your bumping in the trunk to it
Grab a couple gats, stuff 'em in your backpack and then take them to school
For show and tell day screamin' "f*ck students"
Locate the b*tch that didn't wanna give you kiss
Then get her tits, then use your fists to add a couple lumps to it
Shoot the faculty for taking hats, you stupid
But skip the music teacher and the janitor you real cool with
Continue this procedure until lunch is through with
Go home out the back like a scared student
Keep a low pro, until you on your block
And then you just make it home in time for new news brief at 2ish
(Stuck at all this bible study) sh*t is not fun
Me and Wolf Gang go jump nuns for hot fun
Plan was to bail when shots heard, and cops come (Bow)
But I'm still punchin' this b*tch out, I'm not done (b*tch)
Sittin' in my room masturbating (Ah)
Truthful, these lyrics are relating like my dad did
I make music for teenagers and bad ass kids
bast*rd touched more boys than your local church did
Killing these n*ggas off quick
Don't believe me then watch me empty out a full clip
Trigger being pulled, n*ggers in a ditch
That wasn't bullets, that was copies of bast*rd you b*tch (Bow, bow, bow)
[Outro]
This my (Bow bow, motherf*cker)
(Pancake, pancake, oatmeal, oatmeal)
This my first sh*t that I recorded in three months
I don't even wanna mix this sh*t
I'ma just give it to y'all n*ggas raw
Wolf Gang, free Earl
Ah sh*t, I f*ckin' took the headphones out