SMUCKERS

[Hook: Tyler, The Creator] For your boy I'm watchin Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor I'm tryna cop the new McLaren with the vertical doors, nigga [Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator] Money, money, money, money; money ain't the motive What's your name again? Nobody knows it Don't speak to me nigga, you not impo'tant I'm focused (2, 3, 4), bring in the horns They say I'm nutty, I'm picnic basket, I'm short of a sandwich I'm peanut butter, Boyce Watkin's a faggot Please come and get me, said I suck him at your neck Like a hickey, boy I'm sicky Like a HIV victim, ain't nobody fuckin wit me I got banned from New Zealand, Whitey called me a demon And a terrorist, goddammit, I couldn't believe in it Ban a kid from a country; I never fall, never timber But you fucked up as a parent; your child idol's a nigger I clearly don't 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 ain't lyin, we the truth, call him Simba, beats his hooves Tyler the Creator sweatin Jesus juice Put that fuckin cow on my level, cause I'm raisin the stakes Mom I made you a promise, it's no more section 8 When we ate its the steaks, now our section is great Cause that's the level I'm at, my niggas pass 'em a plate 'Ye! [Break: Kanye West] Why, oh why, why, why don't they like me? Cause Nike gave a lot of niggas checks But I'm the only nigga to ever check Nike [Verse 2: Kanye West] Richer than white people with black kids Scarier than black people with ideas Nobody can tell me where I'm headin But I feel like Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen at my weddin They say I'm crazy, but that's the best thing goin for me You can't Lynch Marshawn if Tom Brady throwin to me I made a million mistakes, but I'm successful in spite of 'em I believe you like a fat trainer takin 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, it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on I know they tell they white daughters "Don't bring home Jerome" I am the free nigga archetype, I am the light and the beacon You can ask the deacon It's 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" [Hook 2: Tyler, The Creator] For your boy I'm tryna pop the new McLaren with the vertical doors I'm watchin Freak and Geeks, got a trampoline in my room Damn [Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator] (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 y'all cylinders smoke like broken exhaust tips Fuckin losers [Verse 4: Lil Wayne] Hold your fuckin ponies, my homie I'll whip your donkey by my lonely I eat pussy like Shoney's (Yeah) It's Tunechi, homie, master of ceremonies I knock 'em down, domino effect; no pepperoni I swear [Verse 5: Tyler the Creator] This them Golf boys, like them Hot Boy$ 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, I'mma go hard like before came Got too much drive, need like ten lanes Life is a broad and she give brain That's that road head (yeah) thats a dream car Got a full tank of that same year I was born That's that one-nine-nine-one 'nother nigga like I, you won't find one Cuz nigga I'm a god, a divine one Tune [Verse 6: Lil Wayne] 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 I'm 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 rollie in her mouth, let the time come She got hair like Sheneneh, and eyes like Wanda Oh my goodness [Verse 7: Tyler, the Creator] Wayne them bitches ugly These niggas colder than Tommy buddy 'Ye we hittin models like Tony Parker be hittin bottles Bitch I'm 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 I'll bring the Clippers And a couple owners that's kinda German You bring the nooses, and a couple trees Where the money grow, and get bodies burnin Cause I'm tryna hang like I'm Mr. Cooper, or Jews in Berlin Or some niggas from Alabama, Birmingham I need music so I'm over the street like Erick Sermon was Fuck us, maybe we should team up Anti-Golf boys, cuz I don't fuck with me either I'm a liar, I'm a faggot, uhh... [Verse 8: Lil Wayne] Son you need Jesus But I heard he left Sunset, to go on tour with Yeezus Well, I'm prayin for the new Yeezys And you pussies prayin that we squash the beef like zucchini I know; it ain't gain, nor fame, nor tame, or lame, nor strange [Outro: Tyler, The Creator] (2, 3, 4) Nah faggot, it's Golf Wang