Samantha Nelson - Smuckers lyrics

[Hook: Tyler, The Creator] For your boy I'm watchin' Freaks and Geeks With the trampoline on the floor I'm tryna' cop the new 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 impo'tant I'm focused (2, 3, 4) Bring in the horns They say I'm nutty, I'm picnic basket I'm short of a sandwich, I'm 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, ain't nobody f**in' wit me I got banned from New Zealand, Whitey called me a demon And a terrorist, goddammit, I couldn't believe in it Ban a kid from a country, I never fall, never timber But you f**ed up as a parent, your child idol's a n***a I clearly don't give a f** so 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, oh why, why, why don't they like me? Cause Nike gave a lot of n***as checks But I'm the only n***a to ever 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 weddin' 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 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 dreamt 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 tell they 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, errr, like hop, I hopped out, like wa**up? Err-err-err, step back, hold up, my n***a, you s**, hold up I studied the proportions Emotions runnin' at a 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' cop the new McLaren With the vertical doors I'm watchin' Freak and Geeks Got a trampoline in my room, damn [Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator] (2, 3, 4) Hold your f**in' horses n***as really f**in' 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 f**in losers [Verse 4: Lil Wayne] Hold your f**in' ponies my homie I'll whip your donkey by my lonely I eat p**y like Shoney's (Yeah) It's Tunechi, homie, master of ceremonies I knock 'em down, domino effect, no pepperoni I swear [Verse 5: Tyler the Creator & (Lil Wayne)] This them Golf boys, like them Hot Boy$ For the nine-nine and two-thousand But its the two-thou' And 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 'caine 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 n***a like I, you won't find one Cuz n***a I'm a god, a divine one Tune [Verse 6: Lil Wayne] My trigger finger wise But my 9 dumb (yeah) Middle finger blind So it's 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 Stakes are high, well done, and prime cut; eat up I stick my Rolie in her mouth, let the time come She got hair like Sheneneh, and eyes like Wanda Oh my goodness [Verse 7: 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 cabbies stoppin' for Lionel (Black a** n***a) They be duckin' us n***as, shout out to Donald Sterling Boy, lets get a scrimmage And 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 burnin Cause I'm tryna' hang like I'm Mr. Cooper Or Jews in Berlin Or some n***as from Alabama, Birmingham My new music's 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'm a liar, I'm a f*ggot, uhh.. [Verse 8: 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 zucchini I know; it ain't gain, nor fame, nor tame Or lame, nor strange [Outro: Tyler, The Creator] Nah f*ggot, it's Golf Wang (2, 3, 4)