Verse 1: Terra G
Prime top of the heap hymn. Leave tracks bleeding like these mockeries of beatniks. Read the edict these breeds must be defeated. Hipsters hit stairs when he threw them off the deep end
Cordially gored corpus who normally wore ornaments. Torn limbs were twisted and blistered when cruelly tormented. Former mortal, his flow shows what disorder is. Hordes try to corner this scornful pitted coroner but lords know he'll coarsely escort em to the morgue again
Principle of mitigating miss hits. His wit's cynical and scintillating imitating citrus. Pinnacle of instigating lit fists. A diligent villain till he ventilated this sh**. And haters back down probably indicating slit wrists. Or a clinched neck. Words cut and dry like they implicated crisp spit. Never limp dick. Spit sh** harder than sprints with shin splints
You will never win. Wretched d**h is evident. Severing another limb and calling it embezzlement. Saucy requisites. When will it ever end? Never, since bent, hellish tempers will be definite. Phlegm drenching stanzas then critics feeling chills willy-nilly till he wrecks again
Every minute a s**ers born. You need more than luck to f** with this buck with horns. Lips slurring, that sh** stirring up quarrels and such to hoard. Go tell that mother f**er to s** on a truck of swords. k** em Earl
Hook: Earl
Just watch, I'm a k** 'em all
Just watch, I'm a k** 'em all
Just watch, I'm a k** 'em all
Just watch, off 'em
Verse 2: Earl
Now pan the cameras back to me and Pamela's amateur threesome with Hannah Montana's manager. And Miley's feeding me sandwiches for my stamina. And Santa's in the back laughing cause my back's cramping up. Mrs. Claus tripping balls, think she had enough. And by enough I mean we dope as f**, she had a gram of us. Flyer than your man because I'm lamping up at the airport smoking hash with all the f**ing baggage handlers. Flowing like the mother f**ing aqueduct. Odd Future Wolf Gang, f*g damagers, b**h, eat a dick