- THE BROWN STAINS OF DARKEESE LATIFAH PART 6-12 (REMIX) 歌词 Tyler, The Creator
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- Tyler, The Creator THE BROWN STAINS OF DARKEESE LATIFAH PART 6-12 (REMIX) 歌词
- Tyler, The Creator
- Oh, you the motherf*cking man, huh?
Oh, you be f*cking b*tches, counting all the bands, huh?
Oh, you be trapping out the bando selling grams, huh?
Oh, you be smoking, drinking lean, and popping Xans, huh?
You see, that's the bullsh*t that I don't need
I'm telling y'all n*ggas, y'all ain't f*cking with me
See, I looked in the mirror and he said, "You are the man"
And I said, "Hey man, I agree"
Rocks on rainbow, Ben's a nice fellow
Your neck reflects your personality, and mine is yellow
Boy, I hit the block, like I hate Legos
They know, they got thirty seconds; Jared Leto
Before they see some halos, and I reload the ammo
Boy, it's Golf Wang-o, and that's the squad I bang-o
Until my f*cking brain go, now let's reload the aim-o
Can't a n*gga get some f*cking chaos in hurr?
I'm the truth and the dare
And you can get your ass beat just like the kick and the snare
ScHoolboy's my niggy, you know I'm good in the 50s
That boy not that bad, eh, it's no Biggie
It's the G-O, and the L-F, we go-go, no homo
We blackout, and go hard like JoJo and f*ckin' Diggy
No ship in this series, since I pissed off Iggy man
Been that man since Batman had a sidekick
Catch me in some Vans like one of them soccer mamas
And them b*tches blue like that family went to a Dodger
Solve 'em (Oh no!) You can't b*tch, I'm a problem
And you'll get f*cked up like the thoughts inside of my noggin
Going harder than the quidditch in Harry Potter
All my shows got one black in it like Larry David
And I'm that n*gga, meaning I'm two n*ggas, I'm schizo
Brent Lowe, mind motherf*ckin' been gone
Pink and yellow on my neck remind you of my ****hole
And I don't really f*ck with you n*ggas, shout out to Jim Crow
Don't get offended, love being darkskinned-ed
23 with a crib, and I don't got no tenants
And I don't like sports, but the court got a tennis
Is that diamonds on your neck? Stay the f*ck out my business
See, that's that Cherry Bomb, get my burr on
That's McLaren, '91 out the Chevron
Motors Flog Gnaw, Vans on, f*ck your Jordans
Went from throwing up to throwing carnivals
Boy, I'm a sicko, Flaco n*gga, but kinda macho
Boy, I got some vatos and shout out to ScHooly, he kinda loco
Pack a de la pistol, we splitting nachos, then for that cheese
Boy, he was using some shells just like a taco, so grab your goggles
N*gga, Taco Tuesday, you don't want none of that
Have you heard of Fairfax? Boy, we was running that
N*gga took the store from us, yeah, f*ck all of that
(Man, he really took the store)
Crack a cracker with a barrel, uh (yeah)
Gang bang tattoos, this ain't a Louis rag (rag)
Orange Paisley got me crip crazy (uh, sup cuz?)
Pants heavy, sag to the left with the belt strapped
No face mask, n*gga, just toe tags
Still, the blunts getting passed, yeah
Ain't worried 'bout no n*ggas (n*gga)
I don't grieve over suckers (sucker)
Gunpowder on my knuckles (knuckle)
Call the ambulances (ambulances)
I'm from the era of crip walking
You was clown-dancing, you wanna be me, huh?
Cuz is wack in his raps and what he rap, he ain't done
It's Top Dawg, Wolf Gang, smell the cat on your tongue
Pus*yboy, you f*cked over, n*gga, control your gums
Teeth missing, moms' won't recognize your face when it's lump
My ****** homie's license, double life in my trunk
Mind, power, body, and soul, we break handcuffs
Got a strike on my record, double cups, and duck
You want the life like us, you need to crip that coast
You want to steer that wheel, you want to smoke that kill
Well, who am I?
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