[Produced by: Tyler, The Creator]
[Verse: Tyler, The Creator]
Um, excuse me, mister, but can you please turn down the lights?
I don't really like all these cameras, man
And this shit just don't feel right
And I don't really wanna be rude to you, sir
But fuck you mean I can't wear my hat in here?
And you got me fucked up, if you think I care, nigga
I hope you little niggas is listening
Them Golf Boys is in this bitch like an infant
The blind niggas used to make fun of my vision
And now I pay a mortage and they stuck with tuition
So special, the teacher asked if I was autistic
And now I'm making plates, you just washing the dishes
So if you don't mind, get the fuck out of my kitchen
But keep your ego there so I can butt fuck your opinion
But in the meantime, brainwashing millions of minions
Leader of the new school? (Ha, I'm in my own school)
And you would never catch me in none of their fucking shin-digs
I hope you fucking niggas is angry, pissed, and offended
In Search Of... did more for me than Illmatic
That's when I realized we ain't cut from the same fabric
I made my own shit, you went out and bought yours
Man, I got too much drive, motherfucker, I hate traffic
La-di-da-di, I'm going harder
Than coming out the closet to conservative Christian fathers
When it's a lot at stake carne asada but let's be honest, I'm really morphing
Named my album "Cherry Bomb" because "Greatest Hits" sounded boring
I don't like to follow the rules
She said that I must, I don't have any armpits
She wanted to talk; "Who's in charge of this Golf shit?"
I said "Howdy do? How are you? I'm the sergeant
And who I are isn't really important
My heart is as dark as a window with car tint
So hop in with your friends, gal and I'll unpark it
And I'll do donuts until the fat one is carsick."
It's young T
[Verse: Tyler, The Creator]
Um, excuse me, mister, but can you please turn down the lights?
I don't really like all these cameras, man
And this shit just don't feel right
And I don't really wanna be rude to you, sir
But fuck you mean I can't wear my hat in here?
And you got me fucked up, if you think I care, nigga
I hope you little niggas is listening
Them Golf Boys is in this bitch like an infant
The blind niggas used to make fun of my vision
And now I pay a mortage and they stuck with tuition
So special, the teacher asked if I was autistic
And now I'm making plates, you just washing the dishes
So if you don't mind, get the fuck out of my kitchen
But keep your ego there so I can butt fuck your opinion
But in the meantime, brainwashing millions of minions
Leader of the new school? (Ha, I'm in my own school)
And you would never catch me in none of their fucking shin-digs
I hope you fucking niggas is angry, pissed, and offended
In Search Of... did more for me than Illmatic
That's when I realized we ain't cut from the same fabric
I made my own shit, you went out and bought yours
Man, I got too much drive, motherfucker, I hate traffic
La-di-da-di, I'm going harder
Than coming out the closet to conservative Christian fathers
When it's a lot at stake carne asada but let's be honest, I'm really morphing
Named my album "Cherry Bomb" because "Greatest Hits" sounded boring
I don't like to follow the rules
She said that I must, I don't have any armpits
She wanted to talk; "Who's in charge of this Golf shit?"
I said "Howdy do? How are you? I'm the sergeant
And who I are isn't really important
My heart is as dark as a window with car tint
So hop in with your friends, gal and I'll unpark it
And I'll do donuts until the fat one is carsick."
It's young T
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