Tyler, The Creator - I Ain't Got Time! lyrics
Tyler, The Creator [Tyler Gregory Okonma] Hawthorne, California, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Tyler, The Creator - I Ain't Got Time! lyrics]
Only here on Golf Radio!
(God I love this sample)
We're going to dance and exercise
And have some fun
I ain't got time for these niggas
Better throw a watch at the boy
Had my boys in this bitch
Looking like a seminar
Who the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?
Boy, I ain't got time for these bitches
Better throw a clock at these hoes
Have these hoes in this bitch
Looking for a water hose
Who the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?
Boy, I ain't got time
Boy, I need a Kleenex
How I got this far? Boy, I can't believe it
That I got this car, so I take the scenic
Passenger a white boy
Look like River Phoenix
First, happy birthday!
You bitch-ass nigga, yup, I'm thirsty
Them little shots that you threw
They ain't hurt me
I ain't fuck with your bitch-ass
In the first place
I ain't got time for these niggas
Better throw a watch at the boy
Had my boys in this bitch
Looking like a seminar
Who the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?
Boy, I ain't got time for these bitches
Better throw a clock at these hoes
Have these hoes in this bitch
Looking for a water hose
Who the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?
Boy, I ain't got time
Nat Turner would be so proud of me
'Cause all these motherfuckers got
They style from me
I bet they all looking from the crowd at me
And if I ask them, they would bow at me
But you're a house nigga, so you don't know
How that shit go
With my big lips and my big nose
And my big dick and my short hair
'Cause you already know how slow my shit grow
(Hey) tick, tock
Tick, tock (Uh) tick, tock
Tick, tock (yeah) tick, tock
Tick, tock (Ayo) tick, tock
Tick, tock
Been the man with a pickle plan
Niggas know the dill
When I sell the carnival
I bet I get a 100 mil' (Hey)
Next line will have 'em like "whoa"
I've been kissing white boys since 2004
One me, two feet, three M's
Four, five, six years ago sucked
Seven figure conversations with
Converse finalized 'Cause Vans fucked up
I'ma read commas, you gon' leave comments
Saying what I shoulda did
But you ain't did nada you ain't important
I'ma keep sporting all smiles over here
Shout out to The Garden (Tick-tock)
(And that's a fact boy)
And I just handle all my
Business like a chessboard
(Tick tock, tick, tock)
And at them Golf boys?
That's my motherfucking set, boy
Hard pill to swallow like some thick soda
Walk weird 'cause my pockets
Look like thick Yoda
With a Skywalker, riding 'round solar
Anakin skin Sprite, and my tint cola
Getting neck from a broad
Like some big shoulders
Till I bust like that 9 in ya heat holster
Everything I say is hot
Bitch I speak toaster
And the bread orthodox like I eat kosher
Shout out to (shhh) they gave a big loaf of
Green bread
Got me chilling like a clean sofa
What's that thick odor? Young Millie T
A young, focused black boy, oh silly me
(I ain't got time)
Better talk shit
'Cause I'm either in my Cons or my Golf shit
Pants got a lil flood, nigga pipe down
I'm Lil Boosie, Lil Boosie, way I wipe down
(Boy, I ain't got time) yeah, right now
'Cause niggas dying every day and
I ain't light brown
And i-D ain't wanna give a nigga no post
So I went and did a 12 page spread in Vogue
(Nigga I ain't got time)
Listen, man, I'm that boy
All you little niggas clones
Boy I fill that void
You better kill that noise
Turn around and remap route
When they see that boy with them
Big ears and that gap tooth tick, tock
Bitch tick, tock
Tick, tock cause I ain't got ti-
Sugar oh!
You're so sweet fuck?
They should call you sugar
'Cause you're so s- hello?