Tyler, The Creator - Cult Shit lyrics
Tyler, The Creator [Tyler Gregory Okonma] Hawthorne, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Tyler, The Creator - Cult Shit lyrics]
I'm recordin' that shit on
The fuckin' little mic
By the little camera thing on
The fuckin' Mac book
So this shit is choppy and bad quality
But fuck it wolf Gang, Ace Creator
Somebody tell Justin Beiber that
I'm fuckin' coming
Ain't no point in runnin', I'm a nigga
Just a little quicker
So I catch him stretchin'
Have him guessin' where his cracker throat
Chop his balls off and use his
Skin to make a baby coat ain't he dope? No
He the same as shit that Tyler wrote
This is Ace
Wolf is in the back with Travis snortin' coke
Riley's here, Connie's dead
Pickin' pussy pisses pike she won't leave
Dick as big as Kelly Price's appetite
Apprehend a couple men
Triple six is fuckin' sin
Make Queen Latifah and Sydney go
Slap a couple dykes
Wrap around 'til they hit the ground
And they hear a sound
That doesn't make sense like nigga
Kids wearing cap and gowns this my album
And when your parents try to come around
Do the fuckin' exact opposite
Of turnin' it down and when they try to get
Parental and start talkin' loud
Tell them that you're from the Wolf
Gang and you're fuckin' proud
Then start barkin' loud 'til the
Neighbors wanna calm you down
But call the pigs
Who'll probably come in bout a half an hour
Tell them that your sorry, you're a cow
Took a fuckin' shower
But make it in time for
Shitty re-runs of Rocket Power
This is the shit that is makin' me cynical
The clinical attempts at
Schizophrenia's critical
Fuckin' voices follow me
Emulatin' like twitter roll oF is a cult
Assume that I'm the fucking general
So when I mention suicide
I'm being Mr literal
The coke inside nine capsules
Fuck it let's split a roll
Life is like a phone booth
These pigeons is the fuckin' toll
1-800-fuck-this-shit
Seven years old in my heart
So I'm stayin' gold but when I fuckin' go
Lucifer will probably have my soul
It's hot down there, fuck that
Bitch I'm hot as coals out the microwave
Mixed with a bowl of yellow raviol
And a firetruck and Arizona durin' summertime
In a turtle neck, thermal jeans
Spit purple wine
Wolf Gang pete and gon' live
Running outta time
The fuck I give is the same as the next line
(Fuck everything) That's what
My conscience said
Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder
Now my conscience dead
So the only guidance that I
Had is splattered on cement
Actions speak louder than words
Let me try this shit
The fuckin' little mic
By the little camera thing on
The fuckin' Mac book
So this shit is choppy and bad quality
But fuck it wolf Gang, Ace Creator
Somebody tell Justin Beiber that
I'm fuckin' coming
Ain't no point in runnin', I'm a nigga
Just a little quicker
So I catch him stretchin'
Have him guessin' where his cracker throat
Chop his balls off and use his
Skin to make a baby coat ain't he dope? No
He the same as shit that Tyler wrote
This is Ace
Wolf is in the back with Travis snortin' coke
Riley's here, Connie's dead
Pickin' pussy pisses pike she won't leave
Dick as big as Kelly Price's appetite
Apprehend a couple men
Triple six is fuckin' sin
Make Queen Latifah and Sydney go
Slap a couple dykes
Wrap around 'til they hit the ground
And they hear a sound
That doesn't make sense like nigga
Kids wearing cap and gowns this my album
And when your parents try to come around
Do the fuckin' exact opposite
Of turnin' it down and when they try to get
Parental and start talkin' loud
Tell them that you're from the Wolf
Gang and you're fuckin' proud
Then start barkin' loud 'til the
Neighbors wanna calm you down
But call the pigs
Who'll probably come in bout a half an hour
Tell them that your sorry, you're a cow
Took a fuckin' shower
But make it in time for
Shitty re-runs of Rocket Power
This is the shit that is makin' me cynical
The clinical attempts at
Schizophrenia's critical
Fuckin' voices follow me
Emulatin' like twitter roll oF is a cult
Assume that I'm the fucking general
So when I mention suicide
I'm being Mr literal
The coke inside nine capsules
Fuck it let's split a roll
Life is like a phone booth
These pigeons is the fuckin' toll
1-800-fuck-this-shit
Seven years old in my heart
So I'm stayin' gold but when I fuckin' go
Lucifer will probably have my soul
It's hot down there, fuck that
Bitch I'm hot as coals out the microwave
Mixed with a bowl of yellow raviol
And a firetruck and Arizona durin' summertime
In a turtle neck, thermal jeans
Spit purple wine
Wolf Gang pete and gon' live
Running outta time
The fuck I give is the same as the next line
(Fuck everything) That's what
My conscience said
Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder
Now my conscience dead
So the only guidance that I
Had is splattered on cement
Actions speak louder than words
Let me try this shit