Tyler, The Creator - Dinosaur lyrics
Tyler, The Creator [Tyler Gregory Okonma] Hawthorne, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Tyler, The Creator - Dinosaur lyrics]
One, two, gold, four
One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish
Fuck going to parties
I'm reading Dr seuss shit
The Devil said I'm heaven sent
My fucking skills are evident
You're irrelevant
Like us having a nigger president
Yo' black pupils stick to me like Velcro
But I don't think no one can touch me
Tickle Me Elmo
You're a fucking homo's snack, a Lunchable
I'm an Addams Family member
You're a fucking Huxtable
My Superman state of dark cape is Bape
You're wearing Diamond Supply but you
Do not even skate you're backwards bent
No forward thought shit
Like fat people wearing skinny
Jeans they can't fit if I die
Tell my mom I took a dollar out her wallet
Always out the motherfucking box, no end
Don't have a religion, ignorant, no scent
Begin my book, first page no end, I'm done
Yeah this is like a Zombie Circus, for me
Hi, I'm Tyler
Told my counselor I'm contemplating killing
These instrumentals ill as fuck
Used for Penicillin, pump bass these keys
To rappers I was dealing made me a crazy man
Mom, pass the fucking Ritalin
Bitches throw they pussy at me
Like they mad at kittens
Got me pissing red and green
Shit like it's fucking Christmas
But I'm a fucking virgin if you listen
When I say I hate yo'
Motherfucking guts I'm not kidding
My suicide note's already written
It says "Fuck you" in all caps
To be specific
Company that that piano kept me
I cannot comprehend you niggas, I'm dyslexie
With skinheads
Skateboarders somewhere where yo' ex be
You roll with thugs
You can find me where the T-Rex be
Busted ass cap, busted ass shoes
On a scale to one to two
I'm Fucking Awesome plus tax i'm done
Shit uh uh uh uh
Yeah this is like The Truman Show
I'm Tyler
Fuck Lame hoodie, my mom goodie
Naked Jazz records, Jimmy, woody
Iller, I would be, killer
Or should he kill her? I should be
But I'm a fucking dinosaur
You could hear me make a roar
Right inside your fucking store
Interesting your fucking brain
Right inside the fucking door
My key got three locks
To open the beat box where
I keep my instruments
On some sentimental shit
Y'all don't got Maybachs
Y'all be on some rental shit
I'm broke as fuck
My pockets be on some lintel shit
Smile with the gold fronts like
I'm on some dental shit
Walk inside Supreme like I'm on
Some Skate Mental shit talkin' to my self
Yeah I'm on some mental shit
Cha ching, cha ching fuckin' cha ching
Uh, uh uh, yeah
One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish
Fuck going to parties
I'm reading Dr seuss shit
The Devil said I'm heaven sent
My fucking skills are evident
You're irrelevant
Like us having a nigger president
Yo' black pupils stick to me like Velcro
But I don't think no one can touch me
Tickle Me Elmo
You're a fucking homo's snack, a Lunchable
I'm an Addams Family member
You're a fucking Huxtable
My Superman state of dark cape is Bape
You're wearing Diamond Supply but you
Do not even skate you're backwards bent
No forward thought shit
Like fat people wearing skinny
Jeans they can't fit if I die
Tell my mom I took a dollar out her wallet
Always out the motherfucking box, no end
Don't have a religion, ignorant, no scent
Begin my book, first page no end, I'm done
Yeah this is like a Zombie Circus, for me
Hi, I'm Tyler
Told my counselor I'm contemplating killing
These instrumentals ill as fuck
Used for Penicillin, pump bass these keys
To rappers I was dealing made me a crazy man
Mom, pass the fucking Ritalin
Bitches throw they pussy at me
Like they mad at kittens
Got me pissing red and green
Shit like it's fucking Christmas
But I'm a fucking virgin if you listen
When I say I hate yo'
Motherfucking guts I'm not kidding
My suicide note's already written
It says "Fuck you" in all caps
To be specific
Company that that piano kept me
I cannot comprehend you niggas, I'm dyslexie
With skinheads
Skateboarders somewhere where yo' ex be
You roll with thugs
You can find me where the T-Rex be
Busted ass cap, busted ass shoes
On a scale to one to two
I'm Fucking Awesome plus tax i'm done
Shit uh uh uh uh
Yeah this is like The Truman Show
I'm Tyler
Fuck Lame hoodie, my mom goodie
Naked Jazz records, Jimmy, woody
Iller, I would be, killer
Or should he kill her? I should be
But I'm a fucking dinosaur
You could hear me make a roar
Right inside your fucking store
Interesting your fucking brain
Right inside the fucking door
My key got three locks
To open the beat box where
I keep my instruments
On some sentimental shit
Y'all don't got Maybachs
Y'all be on some rental shit
I'm broke as fuck
My pockets be on some lintel shit
Smile with the gold fronts like
I'm on some dental shit
Walk inside Supreme like I'm on
Some Skate Mental shit talkin' to my self
Yeah I'm on some mental shit
Cha ching, cha ching fuckin' cha ching
Uh, uh uh, yeah