Domo Genesis, Tyler, The Creator - Super Market lyrics

Hi, welcome to Fuckey Foods umm, this lane
Is open if, if you need, if you
To check out uhh, you're buying uh, donuts
And a pack of Diet Pepsi? Sweet
Okay makes sense

In this fucking line at
Ralph's buying granola bars
Left my member's card
And now this shit gon' have an extra charge
This old bitch in front of
Me buying a color printer
TV dinners, tampons, soy milk, paint thinner

So here I am at the store for some chips
That I'mma pay for with dimes
Nickels and quarters and shit
And I'm still high, so I'm tryna dip
But I'mma cut through the line
To get outta this bitch

What the fuck
Who the fuck's this gay nigga in fake Gucci?
Jordan numbers, whatever
Wood chain with a Jesus
Hey you, what the fuck you think you doing?

Nigga, fuck you, I'm just eating
Ruffles and gotta lotta stuff, fool
So, why don't you fucking wipe that
Stupid look on your face

Don't make me shoot up this
Place with lightsabers and guns
And shoot caps at kneecaps to
Make it harder to run
And put your ankles in some boards
And pissy water for fun, ugh

Nigga, I'm a samurai
Cut your skinny ass in half
Look up at the aftermath
Blow some fucking hash and laugh

I'm a fucking ninja and a
Jedi and I'm from Compton
Better pick a better option 'fore
These Nikes get to stomping
Chomping at your oxygen cords
You fat fake Kenan Thompson
Like a virgin, cherry faggot
We could get it poppin'

I bet you lock and drop it, faggot bitch
You ain't from Compton
Dumbo ears, you Mary Poppins
With the piece that Kel was rockin
I will fucking beat your ass
Box logos through the glass
I'll hit you hooky like you skipping class
Lee would get the math

Oh, really? You're silly giving
Tip drills to Nelly
Get them Ruffles no Lays cause
Kiara might kill me
Aw, fuck this! I'm grabbing
Two kitchen knives
And stabbing this Ice Cube look-a-like
To show you a nigga with attitude

Wait, I heard about you from
That other nigga Earl
How you traveled to Milan and
Now it only likes girls
I'll roundhouse you into a fucking basket
Push you into an old lady bagging plastic
Hope you get the message
I will stomp you into potholes
And fill you up with shells
But you're used to eating tacos

Oh, a Taco joke?
Domo smoke, I heard your album
Sound like some shit a fake
Wiz Khalifa poppa wrote
I'm insulted, shit, damn
Somebody grab the Charmin
Never mind these messages
Monica her nigga arming

Swift made switch blades made a
Big incision in him
Red dot his forehead ‘cause
Riley's into Hinduism
And hipsters who happen to be your listeners
Doobies roll your booty, ho
Alexis know the truthy, bro

Oh, a Lexus? I drive all that around
The western hemisphere like all
Of Kiara's exes
And bet this, I'm a mothafuckin' monster
Fuck talking, i'll stab you with this
Fucking rocket launcher

When I cock the beam back
I'm aiming for Supreme hats
Go to Hell, I mean that
Burn you like greenbacks

You don't mean that, you faggot
I'll get your back and I'll snap it
And strangle you with that
Fucking leather jacket
Fall, bitch, give me everything
I'm taking all this and fleeing the scene on
Rufus, my evil walrus, bitch
Fuck you, I'm out

I'm high as fuck and I
Didn't call for all this
I'mma get on my zombie shit, wait
Here's my carcass

Sir sir sir, in the green hat
Sir you you you have to pay for that you
Have to, the Arizonas, you have to pay for
Those i fucking hate this job fuck
Clean up on aisle six