Yonkers
by Tyler The Creator
lyricscopy.com
[Verse 1]
I´m a fuckin´ walkin´ paradox, no I´m not
Threesomes with a fuckin´ triceratops, Reptar
Rappin´ as I´m mockin´ deaf rock stars
Wearin´ synthetic wigs made of Anwar´s dreadlocks
Bedrock, harder than a muthafuckin´ Flintstone
Makin´ crack rocks outta pissy nigga fishbone
This nigga Jasper tryna get grown
About five-seven of his bitches in my bedroom
Swallow the cinnamon, I´mma scribble this sin and shit
While Syd is tellin´ me that she´s been gettin´ intimate with men
Syd, shut the fuck up
Here´s the number to my therapist
Tell him all your problems, he´s fuckin´ awesome with listenin´
Wolf Haley, Golf Wang
[Verse 2]
Jesus called, he said he´s sick of the disses
I told him to quit bitchin´, this isn´t a f-ckin´ hotline
For a fuckin´ shrink, sheesh I already got mine
And he´s not fuckin´ workin´, I think I´m wastin´ my damn time
I´m clockin´ three past six and goin´ postal
This the revenge of the dicks, that´s nine cocks that cock nines
This ain´t no V Tech shit or Columbine
But after bowlin´, I went home to some damn Adventure Time
(What´d you do?) I slipped myself some pink Xanies
And danced around the house in all-over print panties
My mom´s gone, that fuckin´ broad will never understand me
I´m not gay, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin
(What you think of Hayley Williams?)
Fuck her, Wolf Haley robbin´ ´em
I´ll crash that fuckin´ airplane at that faggot n-gga B.o.B is in
And stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus
And won´t stop until the cops come in
I´m an over achiever, so how ´bout I start a team of leaders
And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver
Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrievers
All I want, fuck money, diamonds and bitches, don´t need ´em
But where the fat ones at, I got somethin´ to feed ´em
In some cookin´ books the black kids never wanted to read ´em
Snap back, green ch-ch-chia f-ckin´ leaves
It´s been a couple months, and Tina still ain´t permed her fuckin´ weave, damn
Wolf Haley, Golf Wang
[Verse 3]
They say sucess is the best revenge, so I beat the tjej up with a stack of magazines
I mean oh, not again another critic writing report
I´m stabbing any blog and faggot hater with a pitchfork
Still suicidal
I´m a fuckin´ walkin´ paradox, no I´m not
Threesomes with a fuckin´ triceratops, Reptar
Rappin´ as I´m mockin´ deaf rock stars
Wearin´ synthetic wigs made of Anwar´s dreadlocks
Bedrock, harder than a muthafuckin´ Flintstone
Makin´ crack rocks outta pissy nigga fishbone
This nigga Jasper tryna get grown
About five-seven of his bitches in my bedroom
Swallow the cinnamon, I´mma scribble this sin and shit
While Syd is tellin´ me that she´s been gettin´ intimate with men
Syd, shut the fuck up
Here´s the number to my therapist
Tell him all your problems, he´s fuckin´ awesome with listenin´
Wolf Haley, Golf Wang
[Verse 2]
Jesus called, he said he´s sick of the disses
I told him to quit bitchin´, this isn´t a f-ckin´ hotline
For a fuckin´ shrink, sheesh I already got mine
And he´s not fuckin´ workin´, I think I´m wastin´ my damn time
I´m clockin´ three past six and goin´ postal
This the revenge of the dicks, that´s nine cocks that cock nines
This ain´t no V Tech shit or Columbine
But after bowlin´, I went home to some damn Adventure Time
(What´d you do?) I slipped myself some pink Xanies
And danced around the house in all-over print panties
My mom´s gone, that fuckin´ broad will never understand me
I´m not gay, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin
(What you think of Hayley Williams?)
Fuck her, Wolf Haley robbin´ ´em
I´ll crash that fuckin´ airplane at that faggot n-gga B.o.B is in
And stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus
And won´t stop until the cops come in
I´m an over achiever, so how ´bout I start a team of leaders
And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver
Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrievers
All I want, fuck money, diamonds and bitches, don´t need ´em
But where the fat ones at, I got somethin´ to feed ´em
In some cookin´ books the black kids never wanted to read ´em
Snap back, green ch-ch-chia f-ckin´ leaves
It´s been a couple months, and Tina still ain´t permed her fuckin´ weave, damn
Wolf Haley, Golf Wang
[Verse 3]
They say sucess is the best revenge, so I beat the tjej up with a stack of magazines
I mean oh, not again another critic writing report
I´m stabbing any blog and faggot hater with a pitchfork
Still suicidal
