Tyler, The Creator - Garbage lyrics

Hello, I'm a salesman sorta giant
I sell Molly and Mary and other various items
One time, one guy came to where I'm residing
And I didn't invite him, so instead
Tried to fight him i got violent
Long story short: he's not breathing
For some reason I liked it
And it was really exciting
Couldn't stop the addiction, and the irony is
A couple junkies went missing and I
Know right where they're hiding

Dope in the bag, pretty bitch on the side
I sell dope in the back
If you tryna get high (Tryna get high)
Dope in the bag, pretty bitch on the side
I sell dope in the back
If you tryna get high dope Dope in the bag
Pretty bitch on the side
I sell dope in the back
If you tryna get high dope Dope in the bag
Pretty bitch on the side
I sell dope in the back
If you tryna get high

Task force poured into my fortress (Fortress)
Found some lipstick, a couple corpses
Bitches was harmed and they
Couldn't reach the alarm
I'm ripping sockets out like I
Had fucking problems with arms, and
They found a couple portrait's on the porch
Hope they don't check up under the floor
It's bodies and hotties, and we was raging
I'm gauging a shawty
Hit so many bitches I was pimping like Scotty
I'm a bull, red, piss me off
Like that lipstick position when
She kissed me
So I bit 'em off, they was too soft
I'm a Wolf
And a designer mixing skin, cotton, leather
And wool and most people like flying kites
Riding bikes in the woods
Baking cake 'cause it's good, I mean
I would if I could
But I like playing dress-up and mix match
Sorry, I'ma 'fess up: You aren't
Getting your kids back

Dope in the bag, pretty bitch on the side
I sell dope in the back
If you tryna get high (Tryna get high)
Dope Dope in the bag
Pretty bitch on the side
I sell dope in the back
If you tryna get high dope Dope in the bag
Pretty bitch on the side
I sell dope in the back
If you tryna get high (Tryna get high)
Dope Dope in the bag
Pretty bitch on the side
I sell dope in the back
If you tryna get high

What's in my trunk? White, girl
What's in my trunk? White, girl
You need a warrant, officer (Officer)

You could say I kill 'em
If my product doesn't
Couple basement stairs where I drug 'em down
It's pretty disgusting
Finger-crush your face, I'll leave
You permanently blushing, blood
Nosebleed drugs cook you in the oven, yeah
Drums