Tyler, The Creator - Seven lyrics

I'd tell him to eat a dick
Quicker than Mexicans sprint over borders
I give a fuck like a quarter with 20 cent
At Hamptons with Fred Hampton
Relaxing at Happy Camper it's the fucking
(financial aid) at Hamptons wasn't relaxing
I'm taxing "Fuck 'em all!"'s what I'm
Chanting, don't complain, i'm just ranting
Fuck ranking, I'm the best
I'm the champion's chariot
I'm a liar like Carrey in Liar Liar
I'm dirtier than the sheets in the Marriott
Cable guy like Larry
Peter Pan in my youth, fucking fairies
(Fucking fairies) i'm using my tooth bait to
Get that bitch teeth paste
Fuck it, Odd Future some Nazis
(Nazis) , black Nazis don't copy (Copy)
We perfect, you sloppy
(Sloppy) , hotter than Saki Takei (Takei)
Fuck a label on my jacket
Screw you like a ratchet
Screw you like a black teen on Judge Hatchett
(Bitch) hang with thrashers and jackers
Drug dealers and crackers
AP students and slackers, I'm backwards
Like Jermaine Dupri in '93
Escaping from concentration camps
With a fucking girl board and a ramp
That I ordered from CCS with
Some diamonds that's VVS
Like I went to Sierra Leone
In a homecoming dress
(Like I went to Sierra Leone
In a homecoming dress, bitch)
With some matching pink panties
Lipstick from my granny
Sup on my hat like that motherfucker friendly
White red headed bitch reminded me of Annie
She dino like my state of mind
So yeah she understand me (Yup)
Fuck You Bunch is here
Never disrespect my family
That’s for my little brother, sister
Cousin and my auntie (Auntie)
Wasted fucking youth? All you
Old niggas antiques we go skate
Rape sluts and eat donuts from Randy
Bitches like Tia Landry watching
Billy and Mandy (Watching Billy and Mandy)
Motherfuckers wanna be Odd but you can't be
(Can't be, heh) sit the fuck down all you
Old niggas stand me, faggot
(Faggot, ayy) i guess I got to be
A fucking hand-me down rapper
From Los Ange' area anytime
I'm fucking landing
Fuck (Fuck) 2DopeBoyz and NahRight
Shoutout (Shoutout) to Hype Trak, them motherfuckers could never get rid of me
Guess I gotta do a fucking
Song with Dom Kennedy
Get these fucking hip hop bloggers
To start feeling me
Because I'm seventeen, compose my own beats
Lyrically I'm dope enough to ass-fuck
The dude who made nicotine
Maybe I should buy some Hundreds
Wear some fucking skinny jeans
And follow in your footsteps
Like a motherfucking millipede
Centipede, make songs about
Gucci and ciga-weed
Jerk with my freshmen like it's
Some motherfucking little league
No, I'm not no fucking hipster, mister
No, I'm not no fucking Kid Cudi
All my fucking fans love me
Collaboration hit's for fans
Screaming fuck buddies (Fuck buddies, O-F)
Yo, yo i'm driving in a stolen truck
And I'm probably fucking drunk
Wasted as fuck, can't walk it out, DJ Unk
(Uh) my nose is filled with coke
And my license is revoked
(Shut the fuck up) Who the fuck
Told me not to spoke? (Me)
Fuck everybody here, everybody vanished
I'm managed
Hop off my dick and make a fucking sandwich
Everybody listening can suck my
Dick in Spanish
(You know what? Fuck you) Fuck you (Shit)
Faggot (Fucking bastard)

Hahaha, yeah, um
As you can probably tell from
Listening to this record
I was, I was probably angry
Probably on my period
But um, I didn’t mean to offend anyone
Alright, I'm lying o-F