Jamba

Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator Poppa ain't called even though he saw me on TV it's all good (Fuck you) But now my balls balls deep in this broads jaw swallow girl it's just noot Bitches scared to let me smash on they ass, yeah they heard I'm fuckin nuts like the swag of a fag Like me and Tekeli was gaggin in the back of the cabin Camp Floggnaw nigga you can tell by the badge (G, pass me my inhaler!) I'm sick of hackin and coughin I'm often this fuckin awesome I'm animals Noah's arkin' and often this rappin nonsense Four stories in my home like "What the fucks an apartment?" Get it poppin like Peter's pores during puberty And take bets on how long it takes Tyler to reach maturity Cussin out Siri like a waitress with no patience Want a tip bitch? Here's my dick for gratituity Chorus: Shut em' down! You gotta shut em' down! X2 Verse 2: Hodgy Beats I tumble crush in Hodgy sluts, give money up then nutty But Professor Nutty Buddy Clumpkins petty when you touch his lunch Like "What the fuck, I'm drunk as fuck," turn the fuckin music up So I can hear these stupid fucks, talk no walk, like you discussed You talkin to much, "Who the fuck are you to us, uterus?" I put that on my pubes and nuts, if I do not begin movin up, I'm shootin up, you and her, crew and turf, new dessert I can see the bitch in a nigga through his shirt I can smell the ho in a bitch whos flockin 'round my crew to flirt It's on your shoulder lose the dirt, yeah it's the movement first Fuck a human nurse, I'm ill like uses earth to infuse the birth Of my scrotum to the channel 10 news, my only motive is to skip to my Lou Get hit to the pubes, you can drink piss and suck a dick in a few, the sickening view A visual woose, I eat your ribs I'm a wolf The meet your kids at the school and give em drugs cause it's cool (Fucka) Chorus Verse 3: Tyler, the Creator Hodgy, fuck this beat, nigga lets smoke weed That shit I need, be that shit that's green A little purple and pink, get some swisher sweets About three or, four more, then leave it be I got an eighth I could face, got a blunt flavored grape I hate the grape I can taste it when I'm inhaling the vapes You can smell us in place when we walk and our clothing always covered in flakes Enough for two shake blunts and "What the fuck is this?" I think this Mary is laced, my hearts beating at paces that Pacquiao can relate I'm fuckin faded like gradient shit, I'm stuck like the tape thats superglued to the center of Kelly Price first waist It's like my first date with Mrs. Mary, this shit is scary The paranoia from this marijuana is very heavy I'm lifted, fainted my fifth hit, Lionel pass the sherm lets use this Philly as a dipstick For this bath salt you dipshit