Oblivion lyrics

[Intro]
Ahem
(*Baby laughing*)
Shut the f*ck up, bi-
Ugh, you f*ckin' baby shut the f*ck up
You're being too loud, you're gon- you're gonna wake them f*ckin' wolves up, b*tch, sh*t
(*Wolves barking*)
Oh f*ck

[Verse 1]
White b*tches, white girls, white drugs
Black girls don't do it but my type does
f*ck it in my white van, beat her with a nice white nightstand
Until I give her gashes where it's nothin' but the white meat
E-T-I-H, W's, double D's on her knees
Whitey gargle yellow f*ckin' bumblebees
Use whitey as my dinner course for intercourse
So much f*ckin' white make Darth Vader have a thinner force
But of course, I'm the white boy that shows no remorse
Pull up on a stark with enough white to kill a horse
Blacc Friday, f*ck a n*gga Friday, umm
Wolf Gang make a pregnant white b*tch wan' abort
Bring the remainin' red and white pieces to the fort
Odd Future, there wolves bang where a couple bears hang
All white box logo with a couple stains
From a black and white creampie, make it light gray
[Verse 2]
Oh wow, Obilivion stump
I do not know how that dead body got inside of my trunk
What the f*ck? Gee Willikers and no, I'm not drunk
I coulda sworn that Budweiser can read fruit punch
Let you sip casually when you tryna lose calories
I'm not a murderer, this occurance that isn't happenin'
Is sporadically damagin' my reputation
See I'm a good guy but when I see dead casualties
My p*nis gets erected and nipples are such aroused
And the blouses of these b*tches always end up in my house
And three hours in the showers with the corpse
I've ejaculated enough semen to sink a boat what, umm
Riley's body's entirely covered and tied up
From my desire, now look at the f*ckin' irony
I killed my manager with an iron
All because the b*tch finally decided to fire me
Back at Travis' house even though that faggot admires me
All because I heard that he was talkin' to Danielle
So now that I finally made that fags head handheld
He can finally help me masturbate and read fan mail (no homo)
First letter says motherf*cker you're dead
The king of comedy heard everythin' that you said
And Just in Time your head is mine
You crossed the f*ckin' line like them dirty Mexicans
Second letter reads: "Hey son, it's me"
f*ck you, I'm a subject without my permission
Third letter quote hey Ace I'm addicted to coke
Wanna ask how I been so?
I make songs about sh*t for attention
Put them out randomly hopin' that I get some
I got problems in my head that I want, no
But I don't trust anybody, yeah no one
Savin' up 24 bullets with gun
Cause I got demons that I cannot let out, umm
Hopefully the next album can help me out
Cause I'm now, livin' this life with foolproof doubts
So, I just need someone to talk to, kinda rushed
But nobody gives a f*ck, f*ck it, signed anonymous