Tyler, The Creator - Seven Lyrics
I'd tell him to eat a dick quicker than Mexicans sprint over bordersI give a ***** like a quarter with 20 centAt Hamptons with Fred Hampton relaxin' at Happy CamperIt's the *****in' financial aid at Hamptons wasn't relaxin', I'm taxin'"***** 'em all!" I'm chantin', don't complain I'm just rantin'***** ranking, I'm the best, I'm the champion's chariotI'm a liar like Carrey in "Liar, Liar"I'm dirtier than the sheets in the Marriott, Cable guy like LarryPeter Pan in my youth, *****ing fairiesI'm using my tooth bait to get that *****es teeth paste***** it, Odd Future some nazis, black nazis don't copyWe perfect, you sloppy, huddled and slightly tacky***** a label on my jacket, screw you like a ratchetScrew you like a black teen on Judge HatchettEndotherms and jaguars, drug dealers and crackersAble students and slackersI'm backwards like Jermaine Dupri in '93Escaping from concentration camps with a *****ing girl born in a rampThat I ordered from CCS with some diamonds that's VVSLike I went to Sierra Leone in a homecoming dressWith some matching pink panties, lipstick from my grannySup on my hat like that mother*****er FrannieWhite, red-headed ***** reminded me of AnnieShe dyno like my state of mind, so yeah she understand me***** you bunches here, never disrespect my familyThat's for my little brother, sister, cousin and my auntieWasted *****in' youth? All you old niggas antiquesWe go skate, rape sluts and eat donuts from Randy*****es like Tia Landry watching Billy and MandyMother*****ers wanna be Odd but you can't beSit the ***** down all you old niggas stand me, faggotI guess I gotta be a *****in' hand-me-down rapperFrom Los Angee area anytime I'm *****in' landing***** 2DopeBoyz and NahRight, shout out to Hype TrackThem mother*****ers could never get rid of meGuess I gotta do a *****ing song with Dom KennedyGet these *****in' hip hop bloggers to start feelin' meBecause I'm seventeen, compose my own beatsLyrically I'm dope enough to ass-***** the dude who made nicotineMaybe I should buy some Hundreds, wear some *****in' skinny jeansAnd follow in your footsteps like a mother*****in' millipedeCentipede, make songs about Gucci and cigaweedJerk with my friends like it's some mother*****in' little leagueNo I ain't no *****ing hipster, misterNo I'm not no *****ing Kid Cudi, all my *****ing fans love meCollaboration hits for fans screaming ***** buddies, yo, yoI'm drivin' in a stolen truck, and I'm probably *****in' drunkWasted as *****, can't walk it out, DJ UnkMy nose is filled with coke and my license is revoked(Shut the ***** up!) Who the ***** told me not to spoke?***** everybody here, everybody vanish, I'll manageHop off my dick and make a *****ing sandwitchEverybody listening can suck my dick in Spanish***** you, faggot (*****in' Bastard)Yeah, um, as you can probably tell from listening to this recordI was, I was probably angry, probably on my periodBut um, I didn't mean to offend anyone, alright, I'm lying, OF
