Tyler, The Creator

I’ma get that deep text when this verse surface

Better send it to my ego ’cause that shit hurtin’

Hope y’all shit workin’ (True story), I’m a psycho, huh?

Don’t give a fuck, you left my heart twerkin‘

I said don’t leave, it’s my fault (One)

I said don’t leave, it’s my fault (Two, two)

Don’t leave, it’s, it’s my fault, girl (Three, three, three)

Tell these black kids they could be who they are

Dye your hair blue, shit, I’ll do it too (What the fuck?)

Look, I smell like Chanel

Don’t talk to me ‘fore I fucking embarrass you

Now sit your ass down, you doing three much

I’m sick of hacking and coughing, I’m often this fucking awesome

I’m animal, Noah’s arking, all from this rapping nonsense

Four stories in my home like « What the fuck’s an apartment? »

I’m a fuckin’ walkin’ paradox, no, I’m not

Threesomes with a fuckin’ triceratops, Reptar

Rappin’ as I’m mockin’ deaf rock stars

Wearin’ synthetic wigs made of Anwar’s dreadlocks

In the three-bear house, eating they motherfucking porridge

I tell her it’s my house, give her a tour in my basement

And keep that bitch locked up in my storage