Tyler, The Creator - Blow lyrics

If this was a game
I already know that I would come out winning
And I'm not bragging, I'ma be in her
But this bitch really think that I'm
'bout to buy her dinner
My steak good, I got a good cut like splinter
Juicy and hot, such a Black-bitch temper
Now she wanna talk and chop
It up like a blender but I don't give a fuck
Or even list-en like Schindler
She's cute, but her forehead's big
Got stretch marks like she got four kids
Her legs can't close like
The four doorhinge Bronco
That OJ killed the white whores with
A wealthy white girl without the facelift
Lure her with expensive dinners
And a nice bracelet
Leave the bitch breathless
What the bitch don't know is that I'm
A mothafuckin' sellout and a rapist

Baby, you're an angel
How about we turn this into
A fable of some sort?
You already know you're dead
Ironic 'cause your lipstick's red, of course
I stuff you in the trunk, drunk
'Cause all I really wanna do
Is fuck and snort blow and snort blow

If this was a game
I would be considered a motherfucking legend
And I ain't trying to gas you like Chevron
But I'm high as fuck, bitch
You really need to get on my leverage
Now, we're in the cabin, in the middle of
("Uh") tryna find ways to really stuff
You in my cabinet
Dreamy little bastard, I done ran out of luck
So now, it's time for a bloody foot
You little rabbit you're very attractive
And notice that my hat is
Always the color of cactus
(And I hang with wolves) 'Cause
I'm an evil bastard
Pictures of you on my wall
No glue, no tape, but just cum, plastered
Met you at my school, departed at my house
Ended at your panties, started at your blouse
Pushed you downstairs
I took a nap up on the couch (Snoring)
If you wanted a date, don't come
Now, you gotta make it easy for you
Don't run you call this shit "kids?" Well
I call these kids "cum"
And you call this shit "rape
" but I think that rape's fun
Wait, now it's about eight-something
It's late, and you stuck down in my base-one
Come downstairs with nothing
But a shoe-string
Yeah, bitch, this date's done

Baby, you're an angel
How about we turn this into
A fable of some sort?
You already know you're dead
Ironic 'cause your lipstick's red, of course
I stuff you in the trunk, drunk
'Cause all I really wanna do
Is fuck and snort blow
And snort (Wanna watch a movie?) blow
Baby, you're an angel
How about we turn this into
A fable of some sort? (Watch a movie)
You already know you're dead
Ironic 'cause your lipstick's red, of course
I stuff you in the trunk, drunk
(Bright lights) 'Cause all I really wanna do
Is fuck and snort blow
And snort (We could go anywhere) blow

I like my girls how I like my drugs: White
Lord, you're so pretty lying in my arms
I just got one request: Stop breathing