French! Tyler, The Creator (Ft. Hodgy)

[Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator]
Got all the Black bitches mad 'cause my main bitch vanilla
She tryna get her groove back like Stella, grab the umbrella
When it comes to your perception of my shit, I'm Helen Keller
When it comes to the perfection of my shit, I know you smell the
Rectum, I'm like a chromosome, I always X 'em
Like Wolverine's stepson, attacking a deadly weapon
I'm opening a church to sell coke and Led Zeppelin
And fuck Mary in her ass— Haha, yo
I'm fucking Goldilocks up in the forest
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
Rape her and record it, then edit it with more shit
Octopussy, special effect, direct
Bitches, we banging, and please never disrespect my set
With Canons hanging from our necks like it's a motherfucking circus

[Chorus: Hodgy, Tyler, the Creator & Both]
You little niggas better check my French (My French)
Ugh, you getting money? Better check my French (My French)
Uh, what time is it, huh? check my French (My French)
If you got my shit, you better check my French (Motherfucker!)
I'm making moves, sh— check my French (My French)
I speak English, but check my French (My French)
Your ho be on my penis, she check my French
Bitch!