Kanye West - Smuckers lyrics

(Hook: Tyler, The Creator) For your boy I’m watchin’ Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor I’m tryna pop the McLaren with the vertical doors n***a (Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator) Money, money, money, money, money ain’t the motive What’s your name again? Nobody knows it Don’t speak to me n***a, you not important I’m focused They say I’m nutty, a picnic basket I’m short of a sandwich A peanut bu*ter, Boyce Watkin’s a f*ggot Please come and get me Said I s** him at your neck Like a hickey, boy I’m sicky Like a HIV victim, man nobody f**in’ with me I got banned from New Zealand, whitey called me demon And a terrorist, God dammit I couldn’t believe it Ban a kid from the country, I never fall, never timber But you f**ed up as a parent, your child idol’s a n******g I clearly don’t give a f**, say you could run that sh** back And f** your loud pack, and f** your Snapchat Cherry Bomb, the greatest f**in’ album since the days of sound And that sh** gon’ pop just like that n***a that was never ’round Damn, ’bout to drop, gas ‘em up, thick exhaust Young T, came quick, hard to beat, dick is soft We ain’t lyin’, we the truth, call him Simba, beats his hooves Tyler the Creator sweatin’ Jesus juice Put that f**in’ cow on my level, cause I’m raisin’ the stakes Mom I made you a promise, it’s no more section 8 When we ate its the steaks, now our section is great Cause that’s the level I’m at, my n***as pa** em a plate ‘Ye! (Break: Kanye West) Why, why, why? Why don’t they like me? Cause Nike gave lot of n***as checks But I’m the only n***a ever to check Nike (Verse 2: Kanye West) Richer than white people with black kids Scarier than black people with ideas Nobody can tell me where I’m headin’ But I feel like Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen at my wedding They say I’m crazy but that’s the best thing going for me You can’t lynch Marshawn, and Tom Brady throwin’ to me I made a million mistakes, but I’m successful in spite of ‘em I believe you like a fat trainer takin’ a bite or somethin’ I wanna turn the tanks to playgrounds I dream’t of 2Pac, he asked me “are you still down?” “Yeah my n***a”, it’s on, it’s on, it’s on, it’s on I know they told their white daughters don’t bring home Jerome I am the free n***a archetype I am the light and the beacon, you can ask the deacon It’s funny when you get extra money Every joke you tell just be extra funny I mean you can even dress extra bummy Cocaine, bathroom break, nose extra runny And I gave you all I got, you still want extra from me Oxford want a full blown lecture from me And the Lexus pull up, err like hop, I hopped out, like wa**up Err-err-err, step back, hold up, my leg’ll be stuck I studied the proportions, emotions runnin’ out of Autobahn Speed level, had a drink with fear, and I was textin’ God He said “I gave you a big dick, so go extra hard” (Hook 2: Tyler, The Creator) For your boy I’m tryna pop the McLaren with the vertical doors I’m watchin’ Freaks and Geeks got a trampoline in my room Damn (Bridge: Tyler, The Creator) (Two, three, four) Hold your f**in’ horses n***as really f**in’ thought that T lost it Like I bet it at an auction been exhausted I been workin’ while y’all cylinders smoke like broken exhaust tips f**in’ losers (Lil Wayne) Hold your f**in’ ponies my homie I whip your donkey by my lonely I eat p**y like Shoney’s That’s Tunechi, homie, master of ceremonies I knock ‘em down, domino effect, no pepperoni I swear (Verse 3: Tyler the Creator) This them golf boys, like them hot boys For the nine, 9 and 2,000, but its the two-thou When the one four and the one five, yo what up Wayne (What up Slime, n***a go hard) Yeah, I’mma go hard like before Cain Got too much drive, need like ten lanes Life is a broad and she give brain That’s that road head, thats a dream car Got a four ten, of that same year I was born That’s that one nine nine one, ‘nother n***a like I You won’t find one, cuz n***a I’m a god, a divine one, Tune (Verse 4: Lil Wayne) My trigger finger wise but my nine dumb Middle finger blind so its f** A-N-Y one f**, 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 Steaks are high well done and prime cut, eat up I stick my rollie in her mouth, let the time come She got hair like Shanaynay, and eyes like Wanda Oh my goodness (Verse 5: Tyler, the Creator) Wayne them b**hes ugly, these n***as colder than Tommy buddy ‘Ye we hittin’ models like Tony Parker be hittin’ bottles b**h I’m goin’ harder than yellow cabby stoppin’ for Lionel (Black a** n***a) They be duckin’ us n***as, shout out to Donald Sterling Boy lets get a scrimmage, I’ll cut some n***as, 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 burning Cause I’m tryna hang like I’m Mr. Cooper or Jews in Berlin Or some n***as from Alabama, Birmingham I need music all over the street like Erick Sermon Was, f** us, maybe we should team up Anti Golf boys cuz I don’t f** with me either I’ma liar, I’ma f*ggot (Verse 6: Lil Wayne) Son you need Jesus But I heard he left sunset, to go on tour with Yeezus, well I’m prayin’ for the new Yeezys And you pussies prayin’ that we squash the beef like zucchinis I know, it ain’t gain, nor fame, nor tame Or lame, nor strange (Outro: Tyler, The Creator) Nah f*ggot its Golf Wang