Tyler, The Creator - Session lyrics

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Tyler, The Creator - Session lyrics

(I can't read) (I got five on it) (I got five on it too my n***as) (You smokin' n***a?) Nah, I ain't smokin' (n***a come on, just hit the f**in' blunt) Nah, ya'll know I don't smoke man (This n***a never wanna smoke) I'm high off life n***a (We should hotbox it) (Straight-edge a** n***a) I'm good man (f** it, if you ain't gonna f**in' smoke n***a, just, just rap for us n***a) Alright, I can hotbox it Yo, yo, look I'm Tyler, Mr. Green Hat, pro-abortion anti-clean rap f** your blog opinion and your feedback My self-respect I leave that in the lost and found Where the black girls get their weaves back, awesome I achieve that Mini, blasting "You're a jerk" in some f**ing yellow skinnies Looking like a f**ing f*ggot, bouncing 'round the house trying to find an easy way to rape Minnie Bet you thirty dollars you find her like Cartman found Kenny, dead I like my girls smart, skinny, kinda Pop Tart when I bite into them red I'm a self-racist, you should tape this, ask Sarah, I'm the rapist I'm a fascist, f** fashion, Gucci belts is for them f*ggots My hat is by Jabbia, and if you got a f**ing problem with the Future You can get a d**h wish just like Atiba f** the biz apparent, Odd Future errant I'm watching the Berrics getting head from someone's parent Blind f**ing hate inside my heart, guaranteed that I'm sharing In the force with the cyclops staring I'm flying on a beaver, you're a disbeliever so don't ask for no motherf**in' ride when you see us Swim right past you, the sh**-list said that I'm nutty such a cashew 'Cause I jack off with dish soap and smell gas fumes Permanent brain damage similar to tattoos The sh**, you can mention me if anybody ask you k** the jungle, let the cats loose You didn't see me here if someone ask you (That n***a got off) Hodgy Beats Hodgy Beats: I want to feel her in every way Mary Jane keeps me high like every day Bong, vaporizer in the sack now Stuck in my high, afraid of heights, I'm trapped Buy a swisher for a dollar or two blunt wraps Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat She ain't got time to try and relieve ya But she'll get all in your head, sativa Mike G: We grind, these n***as asking for some promo We sit back, observe, stacking hella box logos Square circle jerks starting OF moshpit Preaching to the poets, I'm an OF prophet No less profit, fiened when we drop sh** Convertible coupe, b**hes scream when they tops split It's that crack, give you something to sell Put these b**hes on lock down, something like jail Thought she hot I swear, probably rougher than Hell And she ain't gay, but the only thing she like is f**ing Chanel Light skinned women, all s** everything Think we can fit ten in, bowls packed with everything Everything that we call flight, living life This is everything that we call hype I'm everything that they call nice She in colors and sh**, she off that northern lights, right Intimidated by n***as you can't be I'm a G, and this is something you can't see Top ranked, number one my son And she looking for them trees, baby we got some And stay focused on the women and you get less done It's ironic 'cause I always hear you talking about one Them other n***as smoke, they ain't this high How high? n***a, higher than the kites they fly You're high as f**, damn