Tyler, The Creator - Burger
[Intro]
Uh, Jesus, heheh
[Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator]
Nigga, this is my cup, drink the cyanide up
Dope as fuck, so I would really shoot a group of guys up
Deep thought I'm often lost in (Fuck it), put me next to awesome
Still can't tell the difference, just like Asians with their eyes shut
Butt fuck a couple Rots in the Wendy's parking lot
Barking at the sight of light from my bright sparkling
Cock-a-doodle, eatin' toaster strudel
At a nude beach in Rome, in a black Bape spaghetti strap made of Ramen noodles
My bitch is bad, mixed with a thicky ass
Get my dicky rocky, this will end up in a sticky blast
Chrissy Brown, mask on my face, now I'm kicking ass
Life's a bitch, fuck college, mommy, I am ditching class
I rather be happy than fucking forty
So fuck that teacher's lecture, I'm having Sydney record me
For the 2Dope– (They didn't like it) Oh, well
Let's get XXL to write us a fucking story
[Chorus: Hodgy]
It's sitting right in my lap, I see it (Hey)
Scribbled across the lines, I read it (Hey)
I'm the fucking poet who knows it, you know it, you bogus
Comprehend the language (Hey)
You scared of war? I'm all anxious
We got the Angus if you want beef (Hey)
Now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Slice the onions)
Now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Put on the cheese)
Oh, now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Where's the barbecue sauce?)
Now have that burger, eat it fast, nigga
[Verse 2: Tyler, the Creator]
Fucking aw, get you some, obviously intended pun
Same time it took Jason Dill to get the stitching done
Custom-made, one of one, sold out Roxy performance
Ski mask color of a pickle just to perform "Sandwitches"
Started back in fucking London, cracker children wanted something
They could bump and punch a bunch of fucking faces (Stomp 'em out)
Moshing pits to breaking arms, Zombie Circus, not a carn–
Evil wolves is on the farm and were all evil harmed
Any sheep creep, quiet tendered sleep
Make a peep, fucking body will go missing in a week
Roam around the city with her titties like a fucking Greek
God, Bastard was the shit, explains why it never leaked (Damn)
I am coming of my age with my Memphis Bleek
Shooting from the sky, the only problem is the missing beak (Once I have my wings and my motherfucking chain)
Oh, that's the black talking in me
Let me down a couple cups of bleach
[Chorus: Hodgy]
It's sitting right in my lap, I see it (Hey)
Scribbled across the lines, I read it (Hey)
I'm the fucking poet who knows it, you know it, you bogus
Comprehend the language (Hey)
You scared of war? I'm all anxious
We got the Angus if you want beef (Hey)
Now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Slice the onions)
Now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Put on the cheese)
Oh, now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Where's the barbecue sauce?)
Now have that burger, eat it fast, nigga (Swag)
[Verse 3: Tyler, the Creator]
Free Earl, that's the fucking shit
And if you disagree, lick a couple pimple-covered clits
From some stripping lesbian dykes that fight niggas
That like to rap about those dykes that fight niggas
Alright, enough with this shit, let's talk business
Acquire more currency, disregard bitches
Go to Shake' house and play Goblins in his kitchen
Then force him and his mom to listen to track six, then
If he doesn't like it, I'll just slice his fucking dick and
Put it in the cabinet where the fucking cookies and chips is
Take a bunch of pictures, and, post 'em on my Twitter, then
Go to Jimmy Fallon like, "Faggot, when we perfomin'?"
Then a bunch of Golf Wang niggas start stormin' on the stage
In a rage that'll scare Zack Rocha
Better get your tanks before this wolf war's over
History repeats itself, I'm a O.F. soldier
Uh, Jesus, heheh
[Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator]
Nigga, this is my cup, drink the cyanide up
Dope as fuck, so I would really shoot a group of guys up
Deep thought I'm often lost in (Fuck it), put me next to awesome
Still can't tell the difference, just like Asians with their eyes shut
Butt fuck a couple Rots in the Wendy's parking lot
Barking at the sight of light from my bright sparkling
Cock-a-doodle, eatin' toaster strudel
At a nude beach in Rome, in a black Bape spaghetti strap made of Ramen noodles
My bitch is bad, mixed with a thicky ass
Get my dicky rocky, this will end up in a sticky blast
Chrissy Brown, mask on my face, now I'm kicking ass
Life's a bitch, fuck college, mommy, I am ditching class
I rather be happy than fucking forty
So fuck that teacher's lecture, I'm having Sydney record me
For the 2Dope– (They didn't like it) Oh, well
Let's get XXL to write us a fucking story
[Chorus: Hodgy]
It's sitting right in my lap, I see it (Hey)
Scribbled across the lines, I read it (Hey)
I'm the fucking poet who knows it, you know it, you bogus
Comprehend the language (Hey)
You scared of war? I'm all anxious
We got the Angus if you want beef (Hey)
Now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Slice the onions)
Now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Put on the cheese)
Oh, now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Where's the barbecue sauce?)
Now have that burger, eat it fast, nigga
[Verse 2: Tyler, the Creator]
Fucking aw, get you some, obviously intended pun
Same time it took Jason Dill to get the stitching done
Custom-made, one of one, sold out Roxy performance
Ski mask color of a pickle just to perform "Sandwitches"
Started back in fucking London, cracker children wanted something
They could bump and punch a bunch of fucking faces (Stomp 'em out)
Moshing pits to breaking arms, Zombie Circus, not a carn–
Evil wolves is on the farm and were all evil harmed
Any sheep creep, quiet tendered sleep
Make a peep, fucking body will go missing in a week
Roam around the city with her titties like a fucking Greek
God, Bastard was the shit, explains why it never leaked (Damn)
I am coming of my age with my Memphis Bleek
Shooting from the sky, the only problem is the missing beak (Once I have my wings and my motherfucking chain)
Oh, that's the black talking in me
Let me down a couple cups of bleach
[Chorus: Hodgy]
It's sitting right in my lap, I see it (Hey)
Scribbled across the lines, I read it (Hey)
I'm the fucking poet who knows it, you know it, you bogus
Comprehend the language (Hey)
You scared of war? I'm all anxious
We got the Angus if you want beef (Hey)
Now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Slice the onions)
Now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Put on the cheese)
Oh, now that's a burger for your ass, nigga (Where's the barbecue sauce?)
Now have that burger, eat it fast, nigga (Swag)
[Verse 3: Tyler, the Creator]
Free Earl, that's the fucking shit
And if you disagree, lick a couple pimple-covered clits
From some stripping lesbian dykes that fight niggas
That like to rap about those dykes that fight niggas
Alright, enough with this shit, let's talk business
Acquire more currency, disregard bitches
Go to Shake' house and play Goblins in his kitchen
Then force him and his mom to listen to track six, then
If he doesn't like it, I'll just slice his fucking dick and
Put it in the cabinet where the fucking cookies and chips is
Take a bunch of pictures, and, post 'em on my Twitter, then
Go to Jimmy Fallon like, "Faggot, when we perfomin'?"
Then a bunch of Golf Wang niggas start stormin' on the stage
In a rage that'll scare Zack Rocha
Better get your tanks before this wolf war's over
History repeats itself, I'm a O.F. soldier
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