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letra de lucky charms - tyler, the creator

[intro]
so many good reviews off of b-st-rd
i celebrated, getting m-st-rbated by my pastor
now he’s in a plastic, on the kitchen table
near a bowl of lucky charms and the newest thrasher

[verse 1]
when i say wolf gang, you say f-ck that
room full of wolves, inhalers and used blunt wraps
fingers in the middle of b-tches bodacious b-tt cracks
enough f-cking atheist rappers to get a nun slapped
um, that’s not a potato, give me my gun back
before i blast bigger than pimples on big pun’s back
black fat b-tches was washin’ on my dishes
and using my large stick on her lips like my c-m’s chapped
i love jews but i hate f-ggots
and b-tches who be nagging about me taking the trash out
i got a f-ckin’ can of whoop -ss, who wants to pack it
going ape sh-t in the newest bape straight jacket
with six d-cks of chap stick, sticking in my black lips
six sippie cups full of sick sh-t enhancements
wolf gang spit right
ain’t been this much f-ckin’ crack rock music since free way had flip side
so get low, lower than a ditch
i’m with some r-t-rded b-tch, hoping she know how to kiss low
they know, i’m the clinic’s aid and i’m sick
so they clap for me kinda like a herpe on the lip
with some tutor b-tch, tryna tickle wetback hooter this
b-tch acting i still did not know with it
until i put this c-ck on, the end of cl-toris
f-cking this game i used this sh-t as spit as lubricant
so who you with? (umm, f-ck)
i got this f-ckin’ gun, you better say yes you stupid b-tch
before you lose your wrist and rich make you do some d-ck
i’m f-cking crazy, well i guess i am if these shoes will fit
f-ck the key club, they wanna ban ’em
i got f-cking fans from compton to montana
to indiana, where deaf dwarfs still don’t understand ’em
because yelling at midgets is like me beefing with brandun (f-ck him)
stomp ’em out, with these crab -ss nikes
make it look like some slob, scribbled all on his white tee
invite me, come on, you got a better chance to getting shake
my dad and earl’s motherf-ckin’ momma to like me (b-tch)
animals is farming you, patrick this is barnacles
said he gave ace a spongejob at the carnival
and spongebob got his head knocked from the p-ss that ace got
n-gga’s soft as baby c-ck and the cotton swab

[verse 2]
this that f-ck music, put your sh-t and f-ck to it
shouldn’t give one when your bumping in the trunk to it
grab a couple gats, stuff ’em in your backpack and then take ’em to school
for show and tell day screamin’ “f-ck students”
locate the b-tch that didn’t wanna give you kiss
then get her t-ts, then use your fists to add a couple lumps to it
shoot the faculty for taking hats, you stupid b-tts
skip the music teacher and the janitor you real cool with
continue this procedure until lunch is through with
go home out the back like a scared student
keep a low pro, until you on your block
then you just make it home in time for new news brief at 2ish
stuck at all this bible study, sh-t is not fun
me and wolf gang go jump nuns for hot fun
playing with the bell when shots heard, and cops come
but i’m still punchin’ this b-tch out, i’m not done
sittin’ in my room m-st-rbating
truthful, these lyrics are relating like my dad did
i make music for teenagers and bad -ss kids
b-st-rd touched more boys than your local church did
k!lling these n-ggas off quick
don’t believe me then watch me empty out a full clip
trigger being pulled, n-ggers in a ditch
that wasn’t bullets, that was copies of b-st-rd you b-tch

- tyler the creator

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