WolfSwag

[Verse 1]
I'm in your room, now you're screaming for help, anxiety attack, so you piss on yourself
And you pray to god that one of your neighbors can help ya, but that won't happen, I'm Helter Skelter (cheese)
In my lobby, they can't find me, I'm not a maniac, I'm a zombie
I'mma rappin' dinosaur neo-Nazi, bitch, you better call on God or Gandhi
Better hope Jesus come baptize you, 'cause I'm about to come rape or sodomize you
Keep doing that until I realize you dead from the stab wounds when I pound you
I'm a night stalker, catching bitches walking after dark in parks
Hit that corner, I hit they dome, they can't call for help because I took they phone
Using up they minutes, just to call my homies, just to tell them that I'm in it, bitch, I dare you to scream
Haven't you heard of Sarah? That's me, I made that bitch my Milton
I was dressed up like Lisa Simpson, put her to sleep quick in my Hilton
Now I'm bout to change your name to Ruth Wilson, voices in my head like "Kill them"
Amityville insanity pill, I can't swallow my cavities
They're strictly from these casualties, that's really good with ham and cheese
Load them up on Craigslist, my email address is:
How-you-doing-my-name-is-Tyler-and you're a dead bitch
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[Verse 2]
I’m the night stalker, you live in this coherent, I hop through your window like niggas off Martin Laurence
I stalk white women and listen to John Lennon, and cotton and lemon dresses, you’re guessing that I’m a monster
I’m guessing that I’m a motherfuckin' person, cursing, scoping out my next victim, scoping out a person
That blonde bell is who I’m gonna get, murder? Well, not yet, but guilty
I roll with a gang of them skaters and musicians that could prolly make your body disappear like a magician
Have you wishing you was with the only nigga that would kiss you, not to see you on the back of the two-percent carton missing
Just like Robin Hood, I played that fox, that Megan’s good
I blow your house down, come from downstairs, down in basements, where your face went
Problems in my top, that’s probably from the pops not being there, now I just stare at laptops
Crying over Sarah, didn’t know the terror of a broken heart right down the faucet, there
I ring your doorbell, and I hit your doormat, cops gettin' suspicious so I shouldn’t record that
Cellphone ringing, you should ignore that; they’ll call back when they figure out you can’t
Better start praying try getting the lord back, 'cause I’m attacking as soon as the crack of the door traps
Getting slapped next to crannies and crack, hittin' the back, rummage through sacks, then I'm-
Yeah you little slut, what? Ran outta luck, you saying “No”, it only makes the blood pump to my penis
You can tell the cops but I bet they won’t believe it; you consider me a rapist, they’ll consider me a genius
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