Yeah, yeah, uhh, they, fuck... alright, uhh, yeah
They ask me if I'm tyler, the nasty nigga that used to be in 7th grade watching Degrassi
But y’all niggas in your whips with your rims and your hat with the brims, rolling right past me
But I could give a fuck about what you doing, who you screwing, who you booing
I got these bitches brewing in my gold pot, you could see the rolex, the gold watch
See them gold Supras but you won't stop
I'm in that BAPE shit or that bathing ape shit, that shit that make you think my Superman hoodie is cape shit
You on that fake shit, that True Religion, Abrecrombie, Pastal
Nigga my T-shirt is Pastelle, my nigga I pass well
Well pass and I pass that fuckin class well
And when your bitch seen me, she be like, Oh My God you’re so skinny but man you're so swell
I'm like I'm so swole, this bape shit is so old
Older than the ice cream shoes I have that's growing mould
And they say Ace he a genius, I said I play piano make songs of big penis
Cause when I have to, listen to Neptunes shit I'm never Mars or Venus
I'm seeing this, my 3D glasses still the cleanest, Enis, anus
Nigga you can paint this here's the motherfuckin brush
All you niggas running but I’m still not in a rush and I’m winning
No braces off, but I'm grinning
Don’t believe in God but I'm sinning, hingin
He man, and she man, and he mad, and hes dead
Y'all want the rims but I'm still chillin’ in the motherfuckin minivan like
What it do, what it do? Fuck you and your crew OF til the death, naah
Y'all know I do ill, y'all rep y'all set until the death my nigga this OF until, until
And nigga that's real, and nigga I'm raw, I'm bigger than my balls
S'leave the cold 86 degrees heat on me, with your bitch screaming out my name gagging on her knees
And nigga I'm reeze, eating motherfuckin ice cream reese's pieces
Nigga I'm the cesis, I'm the shit you can call me Ace The Creator aka feces
I eat em like I'm feces... a haha hah aha
What the fuck is my problem? FUCK
A YO imma let this one ride out tho..
Imma let the keys fuck wit the drums.. you know...
A C E, O F M , bangin on your F M , YES
It was all a dream, now I got my own magazine...
Word up, I'm out, peace
Other Tyler, The Creator songs:
all Tyler, The Creator songs all songs from 2008