Rats lyrics

by

Earl Sweatshirt


[Intro]
Yeah b*tch
Wolf Gang, Sweatshirt, ho

[Verse 1]
'94 black music, beat a preacher's ass to it
Honor class crack movement, you faggots is ass chewin'
New black Rasputin get these hoes loose
As your back tooth with a Kimbo jab to it
f*ck y'all, they can't handle the fact
That I am not yet a man, I'm manhandlin' tracks
Tell these fags that the lip chapped champion's back
Wolf cack is up the ass of the tabbiest cat
My hands on my sock, I'm Pop, Crackle and Snap
Get it poppin' off, pop a couple Xan in some class
Smoke a little hash with my favorite janitor's ass
And beat my teacher 'til she gives my f*ckin' mannequins back, b*tch
Pigeon blood'll leave the stool wall sh*tted up
sh*t talk, Myrtle f*ck, get your little sister f*cked
sh*t, I'll hit stripper up to go and pick a different sl*t
To stick inside them f*ckin' pots where we brew them b*tches up
Rippin' writtens while my n*gga Hodgy splittin' blunts
Eyes hazy with my middle finger up a stripper's c*nt
Lights down, lit her up, sherm in my sippy cup
Ice pickin' cripples 'til I get my Tommy Pickle rub
Catch me poppin' pimples, tellin' b*tches triple 6 is us
Stabbin' 'em with pencils in their temples 'til my di*k erupts
It's really f*ckin' simple, sl*t, Wolf Gang, get with us
Either that or grab a full fist of nuts and lick 'em up
Turn it up, fisticuffs, givin' b*tches di*k to suck
Let 'em drink the c*m out a mothaf*ckin' paper cup
Whores wider than the horse that I'm sniffin' up
Leave now if you ain't tryna get them titties touched
[Verse 2]
We the best and I'm provin' it
Competition missin' like the braids of f*ckin' Ludacris
Mop duplicates, get socked in the uterus
For steppin' in the section of them Odd Future hooligans
Psych, I'll take your uterine, hula hoop with it
Backslap her with a tube of lubricant
Tape it and take it to Ace's so we can do this sh*t
Carjack her parents' coupe and take a cruise in it
(?), Youtube the sh*t
Cut the bullsh*t what you forgot, (?)
Now you're pouting cause I'm playin' your pus*y like it's a tuba, b*tch
Too foul, loose bowels, get used to it
So point me to the nearest booth so I can poop in it
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