- Tyler, The Creator SMUCKERS 歌詞
- Tyler, The Creator
- For your boy
Im watching Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor
Im tryna cop the new McLaren with the vertical doors, nigga
Money, money, money, money
Money aint the motive
Whats your name again? Nobody knows it
Dont speak to me nigga, you not impotant
Im focused
(Two, three, four) Bring in the horns
They say Im nutty, Im picnic basket
Im short of a sandwich, Im peanut butter
Boyce Watkins a faggot, please come and get me
Said I suck him at your neck, like a hickey, boy Im sicky
Like a HIV victim, aint nobody fuckin with me
I got banned from New Zealand, whitey called me a demon
And a terrorist, goddammit, I couldnt believe in it
Ban a kid from a country, I never fall , never timber
But you fucked up as a parent, your child idols a nigger
I clearly dont give a fuck, so you could run that shit back
And fuck your loud pack
And fuck your Snapchat
Cherry Bomb
The greatest fuckin album since the days of sound
And that shit gon pop
Just like that nigga that was never round
Damn, bout to drop
Gas em up, thick exhaust
Young T, came quick, hard to beat, dick is soft
We aint lyin, we the truth, call him Simba, beats his hooves
Tyler, The Creator sweatin Jesus juice
Put that fuckin cow on my level,
Cause Im raising the stakes
Mom, I made you a promise, its no more section 8
When we ate its the steaks, now our section is great
Cause thats the level Im at, my niggas pass em a plate
Ye!
Why, oh why, why, why dont they like me?
Cause Nike gave a lot of niggas checks
But Im the only nigga to ever check Nike
Richer than white people with black kids
Scarier than black people with ideas
Nobody can tell me where Im headin
But I feel like Michael Jordan
Scottie Pippen at my weddin
They say Im crazy, but thats the best thing goin for me
You cant Lynch Marshawn if Tom Brady throwin to me
I made a million mistakes , but Im successful in spite of em
I believe you like a fat trainer taking a bite or somethin
I wanna turn the tanks to playgrounds
I dreamt of 2Pac, he asked me 'Are you still down? '
Yeah, my nigga; its on, its on, its on, its on
I know they told they white daughters
'Dont bring home Jerome'
I am the free nigga archetype
I am the light and the beacon
You can ask the deacon
Its funny, when you get extra money
Every joke you tell just be extra funny
I mean, you can even dress extra bummy
Cocaine, bathroom break, nose extra runny
And I gave you all I got, you still want extra from me
Oxford want a full-blown lecture from me
And the Lexus pull up, errr , like hop,
I hopped out, like wassup?
Err-err-err, step back, hold up, my nigga, you suck, hold up
I studied the proportions
Emotions runnin at a Autobahn speed-level
Had a drink with Fear, and I was textin God
He said 'I gave you a big dick, so go extra hard'
For your boy
Im tryna cop the new McLaren
With the vertical doors
Im watchin Freak and Geeks
Got a trampoline in my room, damn
(2, 3, 4)
Hold your fuckin horses
Niggas really fuckin thought that T lost it
Like I bet it at a auction
Been exhausted
I been workin
While yall silly bros smoke like broken exhaust tips
Fuckin losers
Hold your fuckin ponies my homie
Ill whip your donkey by my lonely
I eat pussy like Shoneys (Yeah)
Its Tunechi, homie, Master of Ceremonies
I knock em down, Domino effect, no pepperoni
I swear
This them Golf boys, like them Hot Boys
For the nine-nine and two-thousand
But its the two-thou
And the one-four
And the one-five
Yo, what up Wayne?
What up Slime? Nigga, go hard
Yeah, Imma go hard like before caine
Got too much drive, need like ten lanes
Life is a broad, and she give brain
Thats that road head Yeah
Thats a dream car
Got a full tank of that same year I was born
Thats that one-nine-nine-one
Nother nigga like I, you wont find one
Cause nigga Im a god, a divine one
Tune
My trigger finger wise
But my 9 dumb Yeah
Middle finger blind
So its fuck A-N-Y-one
Fuck, skate, and die son
A hundred ways to die son
Im starin at a tramp-on-lean
Make my eye jump
Use Adderall like alarm clocks
Wake my high up
Stakes are high, well done, and prime cut; eat up
I stick my Rolie in her mouth, let the time come
She got hair like Sheneneh, and eyes like Wanda
Oh my goodness
Wayne, them bitches ugly
These niggas colder than Tommy buddy
Ye, we hittin models
Like Tony Parker be hittin bottles
Bitch, Im goin harder than yellow cabbies stoppin for Lionel
(Black ass nigga)
They be duckin us niggas, shout out to Donald Sterling
Boy, lets get a scrimmage
And cut some niggas
Ill bring the Clippers
And a couple owners thats kinda German
You bring the nooses
And a couple trees, where the money grow
And get bodies burnin
Cause Im tryna hang like Im Mr. Cooper
Or Jews in Berlin
Or some niggas from Alabama, Birmingham
My new musics all over the street like Erick Sermon was
Fuck us
Maybe we should team up
Anti- Golf boys
Cause I dont fuck with me either
Im a liar, Im a faggot (Uhh..)
Son you need Jesus
But I heard he left Sunset, to go on tour with Yeezus
Well, Im prayin for the new Yeezys
And you pussies prayin that we squash the beef, like zucchini
I know; it aint gain, nor fame, nor tame
Or lame, nor strange
Nah faggot, its Golf Wang
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