Fuck Santa (Ill Cab TV Thief) Tyler, The Creator

[Verse 1]
After, the joy, half laughter
The book, of the kids, favorite mothafuckin' chapter
No need to be a actor (Cover up with quilt)
So the fat nigga could drink my mothafuckin' milk
I want some gold Bapes, I want a prom date
A sloppy ass, musty bitch, that's overweight
I want a new piano, record deal, new pills, therapist, i'm pissed
(Somebody give me a hug)

[Verse 2]
Jangle balls, and i'm fuckin' Mrs. Clause
Have her her climbin' up the wall while he givin' y'all gifts
He ain't never gave me shit
My mom bought the wrappin' and the shit that influenced me to start rappin'
It's not a joke
Chillin' with the polar bear that used to work for Coke
Santa sniffin' coke, my santa letter wrote "Fuck you, whiney Malcolm X movie, try me"
And I'm still in Harry Potter's cloak

[Verse 3]
Middle East was his birthday, twenty fifth, I'd rather get gifts
So why the fuck would I go out my way to celebrate birthday
I'm selfish, what the fuck I look like, buyin' a gift
Hide em, bed under the couch
Rad kid smashed they mothfucka' ginger house
Jesus don't know me, he ain't my homie
Our friendship sits on itself
Santa go and molest an elf