La, la, la, la, la, la, la
AAAAHHH!
Satan's getting jealous of the wolves, the demons say they preferring us
Books on not giving a fuck is what they're referring us (Wolf Gang)
Wolves, I know you heard of us, we're murderers
And young enough to get the fucking priest to come and flirt with us
You niggas rap about fucking bitches and getting head
Instead I rap about fucking bitches and getting heads
While you niggas stacking bread, I can stack a couple dead
Bodies, making red look less of a color, more of a hobby
I'm not a rapper nor a rapist nor a racist
I fuck bitches with no permission and tend to hate shit
Brag about the actions in a rhyming pattern matter
Then proceed to sat her down when I go splatter in her chatterbox
Atta boy, Odd Future, you're not in our categore
Torture with the super soaker at the asian liquor store
This the type of shit that make a Chris Brown want to kick a whore
That make songs about the wet blockers when it rains and pours
(Umbrella) I hate this, screaming fuck patience
Got a nigga shaking like the calmest fucking Haitian
After chronic masturbation, asking where Mary-Kate went
I want to be the reasons why all lesbians hate dick
I make this damn Bullwinkle the red moose
Game of duck-duck-duct tape with a dead goose
She running 'round this motherfucking dungeon, her legs loose
Until I accidentally get the saw to her head, oops
Victim, victim, honey, you're my fifth one
Honey on that topping when I stuff you in my system
Rape a pregnant bitch and tell my friends I had a threesome
You got a fucking death wish? I'm a genie, it'll get done
Nice to meet you, but it's more pleasant to eat you
With a leaf of salad and some dressing pouring out a teacup
Bitch, I'm Tyler the Creature, suck your feet up like a beach of leeches
Rubber more than the fucking bottom of a sneaker
Jeeper the fucking creeper, get your daughter and keep her
In the jeeps where the Wolf Gang rides around deeper
Take her to Ladera, now she's scared and you're embarrassed
Filled with terror, chop her legs off and tell her to run some errands
Put her eyes in a canteen, take her to the Berrics
Stare at Steve, say it costs ten to fuck Eric
Put her in the lake, her body sinks great, now it's time to fish her like Derek
Satan says we're dangerous, we're trading kids for angel dust
And snuff and sniff, and now that Michael Jackson's trying to suck our dick
Hippopot the fucking llamas, dead bodies, cheerleading squaders
Gave the team a bunch of fucking bees and the Keke Palmer
They will never catch him or catch up
They asked me what it was, I told them fuckers it was ketchup
Nutty like my Chex mix, she bleeding from her rectum
Odd Future wolves stirring ruckus, throwing sets up, yep
This the type of shit that make children break in apartments
When you tell a fucking orphan you don't love them 'til they heart thin
(I hate you!) Starve her 'til I carve her then I shove her in the Rover
Where I cut her like a barber with a Parkinson's disorder
Store her in a portable freezer with me to Portland
Catch me with a bunch of fucking Mexicans crossing the border (arriba!)
I'll be the only wetback who ain't really touched the water
Cause I'll be too fucking busy tryna flirt with Jesus' daughter
(Fuck Mary) I'm awesome, and I fuck dolphins
Sicker than the starving Nigerian kids barfing
Odd Future Wolf Gang Nazi bar mitzvah
With your sister at the bar playing leg and arm twister
Evident that I'm the shit, I'm the Pooh like Tigger dick
I got these cracker doctors saying, "yeah Bob, this nigga's sick"
Animal safari, if I offend you I'm sorry
Because I'm the blackest skinhead since India Arie
I don't smoke weed, so no need for the matches
I said fuck coke and now I'm snorting Hitler's ashes
I plan on either dying for suicide or my asthma
Being the only bastard in a box logo casket
Rashes on my dick from licks of shishkabob Sagets
In some Kanye West glasses screaming out "fuck faggots"
Catch me in my attic taking photos of my dad's dick
Drop the beat here to make it extra climactic
[ Dr. TC]
What the fuck?
I... I'm speechless, that was... fuck
Shit, Tyler, you're gonna need some help
I'm not a... fuck it, different subject
How's that girl you were telling me about?
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
