Earl Sweatshirt, Tyler, The Creator - Sasquatch lyrics

After filling my reputation of whore beaters
Soared to Taco Bell and
I ordered some gorditas (Mmm, that's good)
Wanted four more, ordered 'em, didn't eat 'em
Then head to Thebe's house
For some gymnastics
Fantastic, I backflip on this beat, B
Cause we running shit like the
Dingleberries on four cheetahs
Flow colder than Papa Joe's, old Domino's
Fuck it, whatever
Um trashwang scratched inside the knucks
Got some One Direction tickets
I should hit that up
Drive by with puppy signs
Plastered on the truck
Then see how many of they fans
Could fit inside the trunk
Move over the microwave and the cannabis
Try to take the van and
The whole band to Canada
Fuck the block news and the venues
They can't handle us
They can't stand us including
Fruit's that Frank's channeling
The Ku Klux Klan see me and my managers
But thank me when they ask
Where the Five Panels is
Man, I suck now, I ain't still dope
But Chris and Rihanna's fuckin' again
So there's still hope
Oh fuck, I went there, balling bitch
I'm Ben's hair
Y'all barely breaking like Taco's self-esteem
In a thin chair
Old Navy bitches love this gap
Yeah this grin's rare
Watch a nigga smile like five-year-old child
I'm kicking it with Nak and
The nigga from Green Mile, it's
Red Bull in this cup so a
Nigga may seem wild but
That's just all the sherm I was
Burning a little while ago (Oh no)
Don't let me get hold of that rifle
Shout my nigga Sage Elsseser and Sean Pablo
Surrounded by them niggas that skate
With a sick style
And some freckled bitches with
Giant peaches that's vile
They never did catch that rhino

Squadron full of some lost souls
Sergeant of all
It's autumn and Nak just nollied a pothole
Non-cooperative with his momma's
Wishes for college
And coppers labeled a problem
Since paying for Damianos
So shimmy through the swamp, nigga
Follow me through the foxholes
Moral Orenthal with a pretty
Bitch in a Bronco
Hopped right off the seven and
Stumbled into some Vatos
Threw a punch, got jumped
Dusted off and then walked home
Shit, it's like 6 PM and his temple throbbing
Hand in the cabinet by seven
Sniff the prescription oxies
Logo in the boxes, all my niggas hostile
Cautious of your crosses
Scoffing at your doctrines
Bitches augmented, stupid, as the group is
Only slightly write precise to get a
Pussy nigga tooth chipped
Man these stitches shut the loose lips
Stumbled in a Ruth's Chris
Slid into a booth and hid the
Luggage from his shroom trips
See, Lionel ball with Leonardo
On the weekend now
And Maui on a scenic route
We on the second season now
Small fry got 'em seasons salty, weeded
Coughing ease up off me
End is breathing easy as bulimics barfing
From a different breed of doggy
From a different seed and cloth
And teeing off, believe it's Golf Wang, nigga