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letra de seven (og) - tyler, the creator

[verse]
i’d tell him to eat a d-ck quicker than mexicans sprint over borders
i give a f-ck like a quarter with 20 cent
at hamptons with fred hampton relaxing at happy camper
it’s the f-cking (financial aid) at hamptons wasn’t relaxing, i’m taxing
“f-ck ’em all!”‘s what i’m chanting, don’t complain, i’m just ranting
f-ck ranking, i’m the best, i’m the champion’s chariot
i’m a liar like carrey in liar liar
i’m dirtier than the sheets in the marriott, cable guy like larry
peter pan in my youth, f-cking fairies (f-cking fairies)
i’m using my tooth bait to get that b-tch t–th paste
f-ck it, odd future some n-z-s (n-z-s), black n-z-s don’t copy (copy)
we perfect, you sloppy (sloppy), hotter than saki takei (takei)
f-ck a label on my jacket, screw you like a ratchet
screw you like a black teen on judge hatchett (b-tch)
hang with thrashers and jackers, drug dealers and crackers
ap students and slackers, i’m backwards
like jermaine dupri in ’93, escaping from concentration camps
with a f-cking girl board and a ramp
that i ordered from ccs with some diamonds that’s vvs
like i went to sierra leone in a homecoming dress (like i went to sierra leone in a homecoming dress, b-tch)
with some matching pink panties, lipstick from my granny
sup on my hat like that motherf-cker friendly
white red-headed b-tch reminded me of annie
she dino like my state of mind, so yeah she understand me (yup)
f-ck you bunch is here, never disrespect my family
that’s for my little brother, sister, cousin and my auntie (auntie)
wasted f-cking youth? all you old n-ggas antiques
we go skate, rape sl-ts and eat donuts from randy
b-tches like tia landry watching billy and mandy (watching billy and mandy)
motherf-ckers wanna be odd but you can’t be (can’t be, heh)
sit the f-ck down all you old n-ggas stand me, f-ggot (f-ggot, ayy)
i guess i got to be a f-cking hand-me-down rapper
from los ange’ area anytime i’m f-cking landing
f-ck (f-ck) 2dopeboyz and nahright
shoutout (shoutout) to hype trak, them motherf-ckers could never get rid of me
guess i gotta do a f-cking song with dom kennedy
get these f-cking hip hop bloggers to start feeling me
because i’m seventeen, compose my own beats
lyrically i’m dope enough to ass-f-ck the dude who made nicotine
maybe i should buy some hundreds, wear some f-cking skinny jeans
and follow in your footsteps like a motherf-cking millipede
centipede, make songs about gucci and ciga-weed
jerk with my freshmen like it’s some motherf-cking little league
no, i’m not no f-cking hipster, mister
no, i’m not no f-cking kid cudi, all my f-cking fans love me
collaboration hits for fans screaming f-ck buddies (f-ck buddies, o-f)
yo, yo
i’m driving in a stolen truck, and i’m probably f-cking drunk
wasted as f-ck, can’t walk it out, dj unk (uh!)
my nose is filled with coke and my license is revoked
(shut the f-ck up!) who the f-ck told me not to spoke? (me)
f-ck everybody here, everybody vanished
i’m managed, hop off my d-ck and make a f-cking sandwich
everybody listening can suck my d-ck in spanish
(you know what? f-ck you) f-ck you (sh-t), f-ggot (f-cking b-st-rd)
[outro]
hahaha, yeah, um, as you can probably tell from listening to this record
i was, i was probably angry, probably on my period
but um, i didn’t mean to offend anyone
alright, i’m lying
o-f

- tyler the creator

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