Tyler, The Creator, Shane Powers — Buffalo
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Текст Tyler, The Creator, Shane Powers — Buffalo
«Yeah!»
«You feel alright?»
«Yeah!»
God, goodness gracious
I can’t wait to see the look on y’all niggas faces
That boy T nuts, surprised his thoughts isn’t chafing
And fuck them crackers up at Mountain Dew, them niggas is racist
Cabbage was made, critic faggots was shook
So I told ’em that I’ll exchange the word «faggot» with «book»
And all them «books» is pissed off and had they page in a bunch
Fucking attitude switched just like a «book» when it struts
But I’m a fraud, I pray to God when the six triple «book» bashing
While me and my favorite author’s lips tickle
Peter Parker pick a pack of peppers when the plot thickens
Tyler, The Creator fucking kill you with a popsicle
Cold blooded, so we rock mittens so they won’t find him
Not kidding, keep the Tommy on me; bitch, I’m Ms. Pickles
Said I seemed off, last time that team talked
Sick of making niggas cabbage so I took the ‘Preme off
Should’ve bought some stock in it (Yo, it’s fucked up, I get it,
put a sock in it)
Not Golf when the little homies don’t—wait, let’s weigh my options
I bought me a mansion, and bought some attention
Ain’t give none to Hopsin, and dear Boyce Watkins
Why you mad? It’s the slave in me
It’s facts, boy, I’m back like Rosa Parks’s least favorite seat
Videos, stage dives, popups, they watching T
While y’all niggas watching the throne, the throne be watching me
«If you fuck this up… There are so many fucking kids right now,
listening to this guy.»
(«Yeah!»—»You feel alright?»—»Yeah!»)
«Get those wings flapping, motherfucker! ‘Cause this kid’s ready to fucking fly.
(«Yeah!»—»You feel alright?»—»Yeah!»)
Eenie, meenie, miney, mo, nigga, nigga on the wall
Rap bars, jail bars, die or shoot a basketball
Tyler, the dark skin arrested in Austin
Cops know who I was cause their kids said the show was awesome
(«Yeah!»—»You feel alright?»—»Yeah!»)
«Tyler, Tyler, I swear to—I swear to fuck! If you fucking… Do not fuck this
up! You have the whole world in your fucking hands.»
(«Yeah!»—»You feel alright?»—»Yeah!»)
How many leaders in the house?
Well can somebody bring the mirrors out? I’m getting lonely
Likes and apologies and snaps make it obvious
That everybody on this fucking planet lacking confidence
How many leaders in the house? (Do not fuck this up!)
Well can somebody bring the camera out so I can film me?
T a great director, niggas’ vision must be blurry
Boy, I get them epic shots like jaywalking in Missouri
Wait, how many leaders in the house?
Well can somebody bring my album out so I can hear one?
Pour me a drink, shit, I don’t know what to think
Cause all these niggas leaning like they Forest Whitaker’s blink
Wait, how many leaders in the house?
See why nobody got they hands up? See, that’s the issue
