Tyler, The Creator, Lil Wayne, Kanye West - SMUCKERS lyrics

For your boy
I'm watching Freaks and Geeks with
The trampoline on the floor
I'm tryna cop the new McLaren
With the vertical doors nigga

Money, money, money, money
Money ain't the motive
What's your name again? Nobody knows it
Don't speak to me, nigga, you not important
I'm focused (Two, three, four)
Bring in the horns

They say I'm nutty, I'm picnic basket
I'm short of a sandwich, I'm peanut butter
Boyce Watkins a faggot
Please come and get me (Two, three, four)
Said I suckin' at your neck
Like a hickey, boy, i'm sicky
(Two, three, four) like a HIV victim
Ain't nobody fuckin' with me
I got banned from New Zealand
Why they called me a demon (yeah)
And a terrorist? Goddamn it
I couldn't believe it
Ban a kid from a country, I never fall
Never timber (Two, three, four)
But you fucked up as a parent
Your child idol's a nig​ger
I clearly don't give a fuck
So you could run that shit back
And fuck your loud pack
And fuck your Snapchat (Man)
Cherry Bomb the greatest fuckin' album
Since the days of sound (Two, three, four)
And that shit gon' pop just like
That nigga that was never 'round
Damn, 'bout to drop, gas 'em up
Thick exhaust (Woo)
Young T, came quick, hard to beat
Dick is soft
We ain't lyin', we the truth, call him Simba
Beast is loose (Two, three, four)
Tyler, The Creator sweatin' Jesus juice
Put that fuckin' cow on my level
'cause I'm raising the stakes
(Why, oh, why don't they like
Me? They don't like me, oh)
Mom, I made you a promise
It's no more section 8
And what we ate was the steaks
Now our section is great
(Why, why, why, why, why, why, why
Don't they like me?)
'Cause that's the level I'm at, my nigga
Pass 'em a plate 'Ye!

Why, oh why, why, why don't they like me?
(Two, three, four)
'Cause Nike gave a lot of niggas checks
(Two, three, four)
But I'm the only nigga to ever check Nike

Richer than white people with black kids
Scarier than black people with ideas
(Two, three, four)
Nobody can tell me where I'm headin'
(Two, three, four)
But I feel like Michael Jordan
Scottie Pippen at my weddin' (yeah)
They say I'm crazy
But that's the best thing goin' for me
You can't lynch Marshawn if Tom
Brady throwin' to me (Two, three, four)
I made a million mistakes
But I'm successful in spite of 'em
(Two, three, four)
I believe you like a fat trainer
Taking a bite of somethin'
I wanna turn the tanks to playgrounds
I dreamt of 2Pac, he asked me
"Are you still down?" yeah, my nigga
(Two, three, four)
It's on, it's on, it's on, it's on
(Two, three, four)
I know they told they white daughters
"Don't bring home Jerome"
I am the free nigga archetype (Woo)
I am the light and the beacon
You can ask the deacon (Ask the deacon)
It's funny, when you get extra money
(Two, three, four)
Every joke you tell just be extra funny
(yeah, yeah)
I mean, you can even dress extra bummy
Cocaine, bathroom break, nose extra runny
(Two, three, four) and I gave you all I got
You still want extra from me
(Woo, Two, three, four)
Oxford want a full-blown lecture from me
And the Lexus pull up, errr
Like hop, I hopped out, like wassup?
Err-err-err, step back, hold up, my nigga
You suck hold up (Skrrt)
I studied the proportions
Emotions runnin' at a Autobahn speed level
(Two, three, four)
Had a drink with fear, and I was textin' God
(Two, three, four)
He said, "I gave you a big
Dick, so go extra hard", uh
(Woo)

For your boy i'm tryna cop the new McLaren
With the vertical doors
I'm watchin' Freak and Geeks
Got a trampoline in my room
Damn (Two, three, four)

Hold your fuckin' horses
Niggas really fuckin' thought that T lost it
Like I bet it at a auction
Been exhausted, I been workin'
While y'all silly bros smoke
Like broken exhaust tips fuckin' losers
Hold your fuckin' ponies, my homie
I'll whip your donkey by my lonely
I eat pussy like Shoney's, yeah
It's Tunechi, homie, Master of Ceremonies
I knock 'em down, Domino
Effect, no pepperoni, i swear
It's them Golf boys, like them Hot Boys
(yeah) for the nine-nine and two-thousand
But it's the two-thou' and (yeah)
The one-four and the one-five, yo, what up
Wayne? What up, Slime? Nigga, go hard
Yeah, I'ma go hard like before came
Got too much drive, need like ten lanes
Life is a broad, and she give brain
That's that road head
(yeah) , that's a dream car
Got a full tank of that same year I was born
That's that one-nine-nine-one
'Nother nigga like I, you won't find one
'Cause, nigga, I'm a god, a divine one Tune!
(Two, three, four)
My trigger finger wise, but my 9 dumb (yeah)
Middle finger blind, so it's fuck A-N-Y-one
(Um) fuck, skate, and die son, a
Hundred ways to die, son
I'm starin' at a tramp on lean
Make my eye jump
Use Adderall like alarm clocks
Wake my high up stakes are high, well done
And prime cut eat up
I stick my Rollie in her mouth
Let the time come
She got hair like Sheneneh
And eyes like Wanda oh my goodness
Wayne, them bitches ugly
These niggas colder than Tommy buddy
Ye, we hittin' models like Tony
Parker be hittin' bottles
Bitch, I'm goin' harder than yellow
Cabbies stoppin' for Lionel
(Black ass nigga) they be duckin' us niggas
Shout out to Donald Sterling
(Two, three, four)
Boy, let's get a scrimmage
And cut some niggas, I'll bring the Clippers
And a couple owners that's kinda German
You bring the nooses
And a couple trees, where the money grow
And get bodies burnin'
'Cause I'm tryna hang like I'm Mr
Cooper or Jews in Berlin
Or some niggas from Alabama, Birmingham
My new music's all over the
Street like Erick Sermon was
Fuck us, maybe we should team up
Anti-Golf boys 'cause I don't
Fuck with me either
I'm a liar, I'm a faggot, ugh! Son
You need Jesus but I heard he left Sunset to
Go on tour with Yeezus (That's too harsh)
Well, I'm prayin' for the new Yeezys
And you pussies prayin' that we
Squash the beef like zucchini
I know, it ain't gain, nor fame, nor tame
Or lame, nor strange, nah, faggot
It's Golf Wang