Blow Tyler, The Creator

[Verse 1]
If this was a game
I already know that I would come out winning
And I'm not bragging, I'ma be in her
But this bitch really think that I'm 'bout to buy her dinner
My steak good, I got a good cut like splinter
Juicy and hot, such a Black-bitch temper
Now she wanna talk and chop it up like a blender
But I don't give a fuck or even list-en like Schindler
She's cute, but her forehead's big
Got stretch marks like she got four kids
Her legs can't close like the four-doorhinge Bronco
That O.J. killed the white whores with
A wealthy white girl without the facelift
Lure her with expensive dinners and a nice bracelet
Leave the bitch breathless
What the bitch don't know is that I'm a mothafuckin' sellout and a rapist

[Chorus]
Baby, you're an angel
How about we turn this into a fable of some sort?
You already know you're dead
Ironic 'cause your lipstick's red, of course
I stuff you in the trunk, drunk
'Cause all I really wanna do is fuck and snort blow
And snort
Blow