"Yonkers" Lyrics - Tyler The Creatori’m a f-ckin’ walkin’ paradox, no i’m notthreesomes with a fuckin’ triceratops, reptarrappin’ as i’m mockin’ deaf rock starswearin’ synthetic wigs made of anwar’s dreadlocksbedrock, harder than a muthaf-ckin’ flintstonemakin’ crack rocks outta pissy n-gga fishbonethis n-gga jasper tryna get grownabout five-seven of his bitches in my bedroomswallow the cinnamon, i’mma scribble this sin and shitwhile syd is tellin’ me that she’s been gettin’ intimate with mensyd, shut the fuck uphere’s the number to my therapisttell him all your problems, he’s f-ckin’ awesome with listenin’wolf haley, golf wangjesus called, he said he’s sick of the dissesi told him to quit bitchin’, this isn’t a f-ckin’ hotlinefor a f-ckin’ shrink, sheesh i already got mineand he’s not f-ckin’ workin’, i think i’m wastin’ my damn timei’m clockin’ three past six and goin’ postalthis the revenge of the dicks, that’s nine cocks that cock ninesthis ain’t no v tech shit or columbinebut after bowlin’, i went home to some damn adventure time(what’d you do?) i slipped myself some pink xaniesand danced around the house in all-over print pantiesmy mom’s gone, that fuckin’ broad will never understand mei’m not gay, i just wanna boogie to some marvin(what you think of hayley williams?)f-ck her, wolf haley robbin’ ‘emi’ll crash that f-ckin’ airplane at that faggot n-gga b.o.b is inand stab bruno mars in his goddamn esophagusand won’t stop until the cops come ini’m an over achiever, so how ’bout i start a team of leadersand pick up stevie wonder to be the wide receivergreen paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrieversall i want, f-ck money, diamonds and bitches, don’t need ‘embut where the fat ones at, i got somethin’ to feed ‘emin some cookin’ books the black kids never wanted to read ‘emsnap back, green ch-ch-chia f-ckin’ leavesit’s been a couple months, and tina still ain’t permed her fuckin’ weave, damn
Related Posts You May Like :
