Tyler, The Creator — SMUCKERS

[Part I] [Chorus: Tyler, The Creator] For your boy I'm watching Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor I'm tryna cop the new McLaren with the vertical doors Nigga [Pre-Verse: 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 important I'm focused (Two, three, four) Bring in the horns [Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator & Kanye West] They say I'm nutty, I'm picnic basket I'm short of a sandwich, I'm peanut butter Boyce Watkins a faggot, please come and get me (Two, three, four) Said I suckin' at your neck, like a hickey, boy, I'm sicky (Two, three, four) Like a HIV victim, ain't nobody fuckin' with me I got banned from New Zealand, why they called me a demon (Yeah) And a terrorist? Goddamn it, I couldn't believe it Ban a kid from a country, I never fall, never timber (Two, three, four) But you fucked up as a parent, your child idol's a nig​ger I clearly don't give a fuck, so you could run that shit back And fuck your loud pack, and fuck your Snapchat (Man...) Cherry Bomb the greatest fuckin' album since the days of sound (Two, three, four) And that shit gon' pop just like that nigga that was never 'round Damn, 'bout to drop, gas 'em up, thick exhaust (Woo) Young T, came quick, hard to beat, dick is soft We ain't lyin', we the truth, call him Simba, beats his hooves (Two, three, four) Tyler, The Creator sweatin' Jesus juice Put that fuckin' cow on my level, 'cause I'm raising the stakes (Why, oh, why don't they like me? They don't like me, oh) Mom, I made you a promise, it's no more section 8 And when we ate, it was the steaks, now our section is great (Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, don't they like me?) 'Cause that's the level I'm at, my nigga, pass 'em a plate 'Ye! [Pre-Verse: Kanye West] Why, oh why, why, why don't they like me? (Two, three, four) 'Cause Nike gave a lot of niggas checks (Two, three, four) But I'm the only nigga to ever check Nike [Verse 2: Kanye West & Tyler, The Creator] Richer than white people with black kids Scarier than black people with ideas (Two, three, four) Nobody can tell me where I'm headin' (Two, three, four) But I feel like Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen at my weddin' (Yeah) 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 (Two, three, four) I made a million mistakes, but I'm successful in spite of 'em (Two, three, four) I believe you like a fat trainer taking a bite of somethin' I wanna turn the tanks to playgrounds I dreamt of 2Pac, he asked me "Are you still down?" Yeah, my nigga (Two, three, four) It's on, it's on, it's on, it's on (Two, three, four) I know they told they white daughters, "Don't bring home Jerome" I am the free nigga archetype (Woo) I am the light and the beacon; you can ask the deacon (Ask the deacon) It's funny, when you get extra money (Two, three, four) Every joke you tell just be extra funny (Yeah, yeah) I mean, you can even dress extra bummy Cocaine, bathroom break, nose extra runny (Two, three, four) And I gave you all I got, you still want extra from me (Woo) (Two, three, four) 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 (Skrrt!) I studied the proportions Emotions runnin' at a Autobahn speed-level (Two, three, four) Had a drink with fear, and I was textin' God (Two, three, four) He said, "I gave you a big dick, so go extra hard", uh (Woo) [Chorus: Tyler, The Creator] For your boy I'm tryna cop the new McLaren with the vertical doors I'm watchin' Freak and Geeks, got a trampoline in my room Damn (Two, three, four) [Part II] [Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator & Lil Wayne, both] 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 silly bros smoke like broken exhaust tips Fuckin' losers 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(Yeah) It's them Golf boys, like them Hot Boys (Yeah) For the nine-nine and two-thousand But it's the two-thou' and (Yeah) The one-four and the one-five, yo, what up, Wayne? What up, Slime? Nigga, go hard Yeah, I'ma 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), that's 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 'Cause, nigga, I'm a god, a divine one; Tune! (Two, three, four) My trigger finger wise, but my 9 dumb (Yeah) Middle finger blind, so it's fuck A-N-Y-one (Um) 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 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 (Two, three, four) Boy, let's 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 My new music's all over the street like Erick Sermon was Fuck us, maybe we should team up Anti-Golf boys 'cause I don't fuck with me either I'm a liar, I'm a faggot, ugh! Son, you need Jesus But I heard he left Sunset to go on tour with Yeezus (That's too harsh) 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, nah, faggot, it's Golf Wang