[Intro: Salem]
You wanna hear the new song we just did?
It's not finished but... yeah

[Chorus: Coco O]
I wanna go
I wanna go
Baby, let's go
To my treehome (To my treehome)
Treehome

[Verse 1: Erykah Badu & Tyler, the Creator]
Special
So let's go
Let's go oh-oh
Oh, let's go
I wanna go
Mmm
Treehome
Bridge!

[Bridge: Tyler, the Creator & Coco O, Tyler, the Creator]
Colorful you are
Yeah, that won't stop
You're my favorite crayon in the box
Let's think outside the lines
Come to my treehouse, yeah, let's escape
Then let me go, headfirst in your lake
From what I heard, it's great
It's great
There's a party

[Verse 2: Erykah Badu & Tyler, the Creator]
Tuesday is good news day (Woo!)
Not usually a full tray (Yeah)
Can you pack your PJs?
There's a party
Come into my treehome
Boy, you must be special
I'm special, baby
No one ever comes here
Yeah

[Outro: Erykah Badu]
Tuesday is good news day
Not usually a food tray
Boy, you must be special
Come into my treehome
Boy, you must be (Let's go to my treehouse, baby)
Let's just escape
Let's go to my treehouse, baby
Special
Let's just escape
You and me
Oh, he's special
Let's just escape
Will you come into my treehouse?

[Intro: Na'kel, Tyler, The Creator, Lee Spielman]
Sawed-off, I eat those
These clothes, they free though
Straight from the back of the Supreme store
Don't give a fuck about these hoes--
Hold on, hold on, hold on, run that shit back!
(This is a DJ Stankdaddy exclusive!)
I want the Black kids to like me for this one, man
Trashwang! Woah!
Illegal CIV!
Trashwang! Yo!
Golf Wang!
Trashwang!

[Verse 1: Na'kel]
Bitch, I'm with the fucking extras
Big dog, cup full of egg nog
Don't give a fuck 'bout shit but clips and Camp Flog Gnaw
Sawed-off, I eat those
These clothes, they free though
Straight from the back of the Supreme store
Don't give a fuck about these hoes
They just slob knob in New York shows
Thirsty for the clips till I'm not flow
Pusha Georgia trip, bitch I got it poppin'
Me and Jasper going coffin shopping
Nose of the board see a lotta boxes
Bitches see the boy and they mouth be frothing
Chain is glossing
Bitch

[Hook: Left Brain]
Trashwang niggas
Thriller, we the killer
You can tell I'm Golf Wangin'
By the fucking stickers
OF or Wolf Gang
My niggas is my niggas
Don't let them skateboards fool you
Know niggas that pull triggers

[Bridge: Left Brain]
Trashwang, nigga, that's what's up
Trashwang, nigga, that's what's up
Trashwang, nigga, that's what's up
Trashwang, nigga, roll a blunt
Trashwang, nigga, that's what's up
Trashwang, nigga, that's what's up
Trashwang, nigga, that's what's up
Trashwang, nigga, roll a blunt

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
Wolf Gang, Golf Wang, yeah, them niggas is swell
Tighter than a straight nigga going to jail
Locked in a box, nigga, off them socks
I can finally afford the bail
My bitch isn't bad
She's pretty normal looking with a real nice ass
Now hop off my dick, what it be
Bitch, Mob, Task, Force, Lil B, nigga
Speaking of the devil
Y'all niggas cornier than kettle
Y'all couldn't smoke crack or heroin
In a Black Ops plane and reach my level
Ate some bugs and I made some carats
Fuck y'all niggas' bullshit, y'all cherish
I'm 21, I threw a party but…
Difference is, y'all didn't have a Ferris
Wheel

[Verse 3: Jasper Dolphin]
55 grams in that blunt, nigga
I face that
Just copped that motherfucker bimmer, nigga
I race that
Keep talking that shit
I'll pull your card
Get chipped like that nigga from Stomp The Yard
Don't fuck with Jasper
He a retard
Kill your motherfucking grandma and have your family scarred

[Verse 4: Tyler, The Creator]
Might fuck around and be a goat named Felicia
Sorry, got a little excited
It's probably all the meth Walt Jr. provided
Wolf Gang up in this bitch
Red Riding Hood is pissed
Somebody tell Megan and Sara to come and suck a-

[Hook: Left Brain]
Trash Wang niggas
Thriller, we the killer
You can tell I'm Golf Wangin'
By the fucking stickers
OF or Wolf Gang
My niggas is my niggas
Don't let them skateboards fool you
Know niggas that pull triggers

[Verse 5: Taco]
Bimmers for days
White bitches is slaves
Niggas ain't with that warfare
My goons got aim
100 racks before 18
200 before I hit 6 feet
Nigga we bout it bout it
Yo bitch try to suck my dick

[Verse 6: Lucas Vercetti]
Holding up my chain
Versace Flocka Flame
Pull up in the tank
Cock back and aim (ouch)
Spitting my verse wearing gold fangs
I'm loading up the nine shouting Golf Wang
Your bitch tattoo
It say my name
Sachee Santana
Nigga bird gang
Supreme team
Seventh veil
Paying all these ratchet's
(Phone bills) Phone bills
Bills, bills, bills...

[Interlude: L-Boy]
(What) Yeah
Y'all niggas thought it was a game
We shutting the motherfucking shit down now nigga
It's over for you bitch niggas
I'm here with my nigga nasty Nak', Mr. Versace
Wolf Haley in this motherfucker
Jasper The Motherfucking Dolphin
And my nigga, Mike G
We taking this shit over
Its shut down for you bitch niggas
I got the Tec
I'm bustin' at y'all bitches heads nigga
Fuck all you niggas
It's getting hot in here

[Outro: Tyler, The Creator]
Odd Future Wolf Gang bruh we Kill 'Em All
Golf Wang sticker on that Trash Wang
Nigga knows that OF popping -- Loiter Squad, Flog Gnaw
OFWGKTA yeah you niggas know them seven letters long
Yeah, Wolf Gang up in this bitch
Golf Wang up in this bitch
Litter Life up in this bitch
OFM, banging on your motherfuckin' FM
Nigga, fuck you thought this was, nigga?
Haha
Click-click [gunshot]
(What the fuck was that?)

[Intro: Jason Dill]
"I'm saying, you know, like. All I ever told you to do was grow up, don't grow down. You know, like, you know, grow up. Don't grow down, grow out. You go from being a kid, just doing your thing, hanging out with your friends. Months later you're world-famous. You're a gay rights activist, and you don't even know it. You know what, I don't wanna say it to you no more, Tyler. Fuck you, Tyler!"

[Verse 1: Domo Genesis]
Watch me get this money, nigga; tired of being hungry, nigga
Nothing funny, sass me while I'm thrashing, I'ma punch a nigga
Never made of plastic, I'm a savage -- you look lunch, my nigga
Passing all you hating fucking fags we don't discuss, my nigga
We ain't on no jolly shit and we don't pop no Mollies, bitch
I'm hocking, spitting got some niggas out here popping Ollie switch
Buncha novices, Odd Future the squad is thick
Them young niggas is back and brash, attacking with no common sense
We the last of a dying breed
And we don't give a fuck, so we cannot supply your needs
You stupid niggas who had said our hype is dying, please
My pockets solid, making profit off the highest tees
Bitch, merch twerk as I get on the verse, cursing
Nigga Dom so cool, I refer him in third person
Watch me get this money, I'm up when the birds chirping
Make actions, fuck rehearsing

[Hook: Domo Genesis]
Nigga, summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five
You niggas gon' give me mine, I don't have plenty time
Flying out at any time, getting money, any grind
You niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine
Summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five
You niggas gon' give me mine, 'cause I don't have plenty time
Flying out at any time, getting money, any grind
You niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
In a world where kids my age are popping Mollies with leather
Sitting on Tumblr, never outside or enjoying the weather
Can name a sweater, but not a talent or don't know if whether
Or not they got one, tried to change their life for the better
I was the drama club kid, I run where the fun did, my nuts itched
I was defiant, always said, "Fuck shit"
Hated the popular ones, now I'm the popular one
Also hated homes too, til I start coppin' me some
See I don't beez in the trap, nigga, I beez in the b's
And I be gassing up my buzz like some bees at a Shell
Fucking sick and getting bigger like I sneezed on Adele
And bitches getting touchy-feely like they reading some Braille
I bust quick like gun-holders with short tempers, and well
I tried to tell the kids, like fuck it, start being yourself
These fucking rappers got stylists cause they can't think for themselves
See, they don't have an identity, so they needed some help, but
Really, boy? Posers looking silly, boy
I'm in that past season 'Preme shit, older than Tity Boi
Not a diss, but same with ice cream, my shit is Diddy Riese
Na'kel Smith, Transworld page 64
Poppin' like oil ollie in fire flames
I'm harder than DJ Khaled playing the fucking quiet game
The fuck am I saying? Tyler's not even a violent name
About as threatening as stained windbreakers in hurricanes
But he rapes women, and spit wrong, like he hates dentists
God damn menace, 666 and he's not finished
And my shit's missing, he hates women, but love kittens?
See y'all niggas tripping, man
Look at that article that says my subject matter is wrong
Saying I hate gays even though Frank is on 10 of my songs
Look at that Mom who thinks I'm evil, hold that grudge against me
Though I'm the reason that her motherfucking son got to eat
Look at the kid who had the .9 and tried to blow out his mind
But talk is money, I said, "Hi," I guess I bought him some time
Look at the ones in the crowd -- that shit is barnacles, huh?
They thought I wasn't fair until I threw a carnival, huh?
But then again, I'm an atheist that just worships Satan
And it's probably why I'm not getting no fucking album placements
And MTV could suck my dick, and I ain't fuckin' playing
Bruh, they never played it, I just won shit for they fucking ratings
"Analog" fans are getting sick of the rape
All the "Tron Cat" fans are getting sick of the lakes
But what about me, bitch? I'm getting sick of complaints
But I don't hate it when I'm taking daily trips to the bank
Oh but no but, shit, who really gives a fuck what I think?
My fans don't, they turning on me, shit, they're almost extinct
Fuck buying studio time, I'ma go purchase a shrink
Record the session and send all you motherfuckers a link, bitch

[Hook: Domo Genesis]
Nigga, summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five
You niggas gon' give me mine, I don't have plenty time
Flying out at any time, getting money, any grind
You niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine
Summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five
You niggas gon' give me mine, I don't have plenty time
Flying out at any time, getting money, any grind
You niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine

[Verse 3: Earl Sweatshirt, Tyler, The Creator (as Sam)]
This shit just like the nights I look forward to not remembering
So much for being sober, I hope that you can forgive me
But Momma, I'm close to the edge as possible (Why don't you jump, you fucking pussy?)
All I’m seeing is the drop in my ocular, jumping like they told me
That the 40's half off, like you know that cliff
Don't need a therapist to tell him he could float that shit (Fucking faggot)
Or get compared to fucking pair with all the program kids
So maybe a pair of pale bitches for the gonads lick (I'll show you)
Malt liquor filling me up, and all us not giving no fucks and
All of them sensitive chumps in awe when that pistol erupts (Pistol, I got one!)
Dirty one spitting that sumpy raw till his wrists in the cuffs
Brother the Pigeons is us
Bid you goodnight and good luck
(Oh, shut the fuck up!)
(Gunshot)

[Outro: Tyler, the Creator (as Sam)]
Samuel's here! Where's Wolf? Fucking faggot. Salem was mine, bitch! Was that good enough, you fucking pussy?

[Intro: Tyler, The Creator]
I don't fucking like this shit, fuck
Ah!

[Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator]
Tall ugly nigga with lips bigger than Tigger
Only blue print on these Vans like I don't listen to Jigger (Uhh)
Cotton-picking nigga, Golf Wang season sicker than the block
Colette and skateshops, where wolves deal 'em (Uhh)
Workshop is awesome, ask Dill and let's pretend
Like I'm not making dollar Bill Withers on these fucking stickers (Uhm)
Pulling down my zipper and she quick to say she doesn't suck
Bitch, cut the crap like dyke booty when they scissor (Uhh)
Pink haired Mrs., I'm her mister, sipping Slurpees, bag of chips
Now show your tits for mister Fuji, take a picture (Uhh)
OF is popping like a blister, need some Listerine
Spitting got us balling like we Mr. Clean's sister (Uhh)
Sick of being black, sipping paint thinner out a tin flask
Plotting on the babysitter before dinner
And hopefully I get her, if I don't, fuck it then
See I never simp son, polar opposite of Smithers, I'm done bitch

[Chorus: Casey Veggies & (Tyler, the Creator)]
Until the ozone leaves and the Earth is hot
Loiter Squad lurking in the parking lot
The moon now working and the stars align
I stay golden, y'all thought I was out my mind
(Loiter Squad lurking in the parking lot) Yeah
(Loiter Squad lurking in the parking lot) Ah man
(Loiter Squad lurking in the parking lot) Ah man
(Yeah) Yeah

[Verse 2: Tyler, the Creator]
(Somebody told me...) I had a decline in the buzz
Not a shocker bruh, I had the stun gun in my bum
And when I drop shit you better have a towel and a sponge
And ask Bob bitch, I eat a ton bucket of chum
In Bikini Bottom, I am the biggest problem
This shit fishy niggas dip like we were set in Harlem
Heaters turn them into nuggets like Carmelo Anthony
We just sit and burn shit just like my fucking anthem

[Verse 3: Mike G & (Tyler, The Creator)]
I'm like goals, those are something you have to stand to reach
My campaign speech elect me Commander in Chief
Respect to whoever's minor appearances cause mass hysteria
But I'm still incomparable, I'm like the face of America
I'm the ambassador from a land made of gold
I'm a fucking centerfold, I'm something to behold
I can kill a hundred shows, take one for the road
I'm results of putting persistent pressure on coals, (Bitch)

[Chorus: Casey Veggies & Tyler, The Creator]
Until the ozone leaves and the Earth is hot
Loiter Squad lurking in the parking lot
The moon now working and the stars align
I stay golden, y'all thought I was out my mind
Loiter Squad lurking in the parking lot (Yeah)
Loiter Squad lurking in the parking lot (Ah man)
Loiter Squad lurking in the parking lot (Ah man)
(Yeah) Yeah

[Verse 4: Tyler, the Creator]
It's a dog eat dog world, don't get bit bruh
A son of a bitch I am, yup, I'm a sick pup
(I thought that you were nice) Yeah I am, slut
I'm also half ass a racist who hates niggas, yep, I'm a mixed mutt
'Preme is the top bunk, green is the pillow case
Golf is the bed sheets (Hat and my T-shirt)
TrashWang sticker on that Chima Fergolfson
I'm real with the box, and I murder with the pen
It's Bimmer Boy's, boy; never swerving in the Benz
I'm listening to Dead Sam demos on the ten
Can I get a medium with cheese and bacon?
It's Loiter Squad nigga...

[Outro]
Fucking Loiter Squad...
(That shit was fucking crazy)
Yeah
(Damn)

[Skit]
Yo, Wolf, nigga
What? Why are you running?
Sam's after you
Sam's after who?
You!
For what? What the fuck?
He found out that you and Salem been hanging out, he said he gonna kill you
Kill me? What the fuck you mean kill me?
You got a booger in your nose
What the, wait, slow down, wait, slow down, what the fuck you mean he gonna kill me?
I don't know, he just said he gonna kill you
Not if I get to him fir-

[Verse 1]
Geek, fag, stupid loser, find a rope to hang
I'm not bipolar, see I'm just known by those couple names
I wanna tell my pops but, shit, he'll probably say the same
Fuck...
Hated by everyone, that's the way it seems
I don't know what's shorter, his damn temper or my self-esteem
I sit in my room and I listen to tunes, I'm amused alone
'Cause none of the cool kids would let me join a team
Depression's on the stalk again
My best friend's an inhaler because it will not let me cough
Whenever I am losing oxygen, bully hand around my neck
'Cause he felt disrespected when I decided to talk again
I brought that on myself, see I should know my place
But not at lunchtime, see I know better than to show my face
Around them, but the day I do, it'll be everywhere
When I share these feelings finally, they gon' fucking care

[Hook]
Grab a couple friends, start a couple riots
Crash a couple (Planes, planes, planes)
Then, gather all the bullies, crush them motherfuckers
Odd Future hooligans causing up a ruckus
It's us, nigga
I said it's us, nigga

[Verse 2]
Murder, murder, m-murder the last they heard of you
Was when I... ("Uh") with all them burners, you
Think that I'm some punk bullied bitch who ain't gon' trouble you
Well, I'm gonna burst your bubble two times if you don't mind
Umm "Who are you again?" I'm Samuel and that's Tyler
We came to get wild and style in these trench coats!
Don't start asking what's packing in these trench coats!
Just know if you start acting, I'm grabbing for these trench coats! ("Umm")
My step-father called me a fag
I'll show him a fag, and I'll light a fire up in his ass
And recently, them assholes been fucking with me in class
So I'ma keep them muhfuckers there and make sure they pass, huh
My prom date, she dismissed my offer
So I'ma **** her and toss her in the principal's office (Tyler, I'll go with you)
Oh, now you wanna conversate with me, try to be my friend?
(Where are my parents at?—) Don't worry, you'll probably never see them again

[Hook]
Grab a couple friends, start a couple riots
Crash a couple (Planes, planes, planes)
Then, gather all the bullies, crush them motherfuckers
Odd Future hooligans causing up a ruckus
It's us, nigga
I said it's us, nigga

[Bridge]
Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum
Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum
Bum, bum, bum, burum-rum-rum-rum, bum, bum, bum
Bum, bum, bum-bum-bum-bum, hehe
We are the Sams, and we're dead—it's just four of us
We come in peace, we mean no harm, and we're inglorious
We took their heads, but we just took back what they took from us
I guess we lost ours...

[Verse 3]
Music had nothing to do with my final decision
I just really wanted somebody to come pay me attention
But nobody would listen but stuffed animals that I had
Since I was a kid, but I'm growing up, so they're missing
I didn't mean to hurt anybody, I'm sorry
I wouldn't hurt a fly or consider joining the Army
I'm hardly ever angry, Roger Rabbit framed me
Mama, I'm the same fucking kid that you made, see?
I don't wanna go to jail, I just wanna go home
And I want them fucking kids at school to just leave me alone
And I... I hear helicopters, make 'em dip
I'm fucking reloaded, I told you all that I ain't taking shit
You better back up before this Mac start to lift up
I'll pump it like my inhaler when asthma begin to act up
The difference between us and our class is tan khakis
I got ninety-nine problems and all of them's being happy

[Intro: Tyler, The Creator]
I never would've thought that
Feelings could get thrown in the air
'Cause I accidentally caught that
I need some new boxing gloves
Shit got hectic whenever I fought back
For example, ten minutes can't go past without you brushing my thoughts
That's fourteen forty a day so I'll say a hundred and forty-four times
I think about you or something like that
Lost match, the fucking thought of you with somebody else
I don't like that; cellular convos getting left in the wrong
'Cause I get so fucking mad when you don't write back
This isn't a song, I just happen to rhyme when I get emo
And find time to write facts, fuck
I love you
Can we add some more color, um, like, some more, yellow?
Yeah, that's good

[Chorus: Tyler, The Creator]
I fucking hate you, but I love you
I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled
You're good at being perfect
We're good at being troubled, yeah
I fucking hate you, but I love you
I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled
You're good at being perfect
We're good at being troubled, yeah

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
Girl, you fucking with my emotions
The fuck is all this noise about?
I even considered picking up smoking
You turned to a bitch, who let the dogs out?
But in my dog house
My bitch is the raddest
Crazy who makes me the happiest can make me the saddest
Look Alice, let's get lost in your wonder-er-land, fuck an atlas
You're perfectly perfect for me
What the fuck is this, practice?
Actually, if you even consider leaving
I'll lose a couple screws in due time, I'll stop breathin'
And you'll see the meaning of stalkin'
When I pop out the dark to find you
And that new dude that you're seein' with an attitude
Then proceed to fuck up your evenin'
Make sure you never meet again like goddamn vegans
'Cause when I hear your name, I cannot stop cheesin'
I love you so much that my heart stops beatin' when you're leavin'
And I'm grievin' and my heart starts bleedin'
Life without you has no goddamn meanin'
Sorry, I'm passive-aggressive for no goddamn reason
It's that my mood change like these goddamn seasons
I fall for you, but I love you
[Chorus: Tyler, The Creator]
I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled
You're good at being perfect
We're good at being troubled
Yeah

[Refrain: Tyler, The Creator & Pharrell Williams]
The sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it
The sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it
The sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it tonight
The sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it
The sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it
The sky's falling bitch, let's try to catch it tonight

[Verse 2: Pharrell Williams & (Tyler, The Creator)]
C'mon baby, even though I hate you, I still love you
I love you
And Salem, my love (I know)
I'm passive aggressive (I'm sorry, fuck)
(Come here)
I like when we hold hands
(You're the best around)
See I get jealous (Fuck)
And if I see that nigga (If I see him)
I just might kill him, haha (Look)
(Look, I wanna strangle you, 'til you stop breathing)
Love, love, love
(Spend the rest of my life, looking for air)
(so you can breathe, or we can die together, you and me)
(Fuck, look)
I'm in love (Love)

[Chorus: Tyler, The Creator]
I fucking hate you, but I love you
I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled
You're good at being perfect
We're good at being troubled, yeah
I fucking hate you, but I love you
I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled
You're good at being perfect
We're good at being troubled, yeah

[Outro: Tyler, The Creator as Wolf and Salem]
"Yo, why is Samuel such a fucking dick?"
"He isn't such a badass actually. He's only here because he ran away, because some shit happened back home. He's actually a dweeb"
"Yo, what happened?"

[Part 1 | PartyIsntOver]

[Verse: Tyler The Creator]
Uhm, I said, the party isn't over
We could still dance, but I don't have no rhythm
So fuck it, take a chance with me
The party isn't over, we could still dance girl
But I don't have no rhythm
So fuck it, take a chance with a nigga
Like me, like me
Uhm, I said, the party isn't over
We could still dance, but I don't have no rhythm
So fuck it, take a chance with me
The party isn't over, we could still dance girl
But I don't have no rhythm
So fuck it, take a chance with a nigga
Like me, like me

[Part 2 | Campfire]

[Verse 1: Tyler The Creator]
Yeah, um
All I needed was a stick, grab the marshmallows
Motherfuckers getting lynched and burned
I earned it, my Flog Gnaw badge is looking good
On this brand new jacket
The donuts on the flag waving over the cabin
Now grab them graham crackers and pass them over here
Hurry, quickly I need a piece of Hersheys
Darker than the corners of the bushes we be lurking
I centered the mellow over the graham
Heated it too long now, it's melting over my hand
Fuck it, I'll bite it, I burnt it, but I liked it
Camping with my niggas, its so fucking exciting

[Interlude: Kids]
We're making s'mores by the campfire
Camp Flog Gnaw, Golf Wang summer

[Verse 2: Laetitia Sadier]
Sat by the fire
To witness gentle, but radical
Transformation ceased to be mindless
Create our own sweetness
At last growing the heart

[Interlude: Tyler, the Creator]
Yo bring the bass back in
Yeah, haha
Who ate all the fuckin' chocolate?
Oh that's Domo fat ass, haha
Yeah
I ain't trying to go home, really

[Part 3 | Bimmer]

[Hook: Tyler The Creator]
You remind me of my bimmer
A lot of trunk space, the perfect two seater
And you got a lot of drive, I’m trying to keep up
But it's not a lot of miles on ya meter
You remind me of my bimmer
See your ignition, baby girl I'm trying to key up
And your headlights are off, I'm trying to see 'em
But it's not a lot of miles on ya meter
So let me start it up and smash

[Verse 1: Tyler The Creator & (Frank Ocean)]
Pop some Tame Impala, your man got a lame Impala
(It'll get dark outside soon)
And I'm sharing Slurpees and you ain't even begin to swallow
You’re fucking nuts, green top we coupled up
Run my fingers through em as you wax and buff my muffler
Cause I fingered you, you think the fucking ring is coming up?
(Where the street lights trail, Oooooooo)
Maybe, I don’t know, I think you’re chill
(Ride for)
Riding on my pegs, and my back against your legs
And a seatbelt is needed if I get between 'em, yeah

[Hook: Tyler The Creator]
You remind me of my bimmer
A lot of trunk space, the perfect two seater
And you got a lot of drive, I’m trying to keep up
But it's not a lot of miles on ya meter
You remind me of my bimmer
See your ignition, baby girl I'm trying to key up
And your headlights are off, I'm trying to see 'em
But it's not a lot of miles on ya meter
So let me start it up and smash

[Verse 2: Frank Ocean]
Mmmm it’ll get dark outside, soon (My baby, ride for me)
Where the street lights trail (My baby, ride for me)
You ain’t gotta lie to kick it darling
It’s cool we’re moving slow

[Bridge: Tyler The Creator]
You remind me of my bimmer
A lot of trunk space, the perfect two seater
You got a lot of drive I’m trying to keep up
But it's not a lot of miles on ya meter
You remind me of my bimmer, smash
You remind me of my bimmer

[Outro: Lionel]
Where you been, man?
Oh, I had a drop off to make real quick. Hey, have you seen Salem?
Oh she with that new dude, Wolf, or, Darnell, whatever his name is
Fuck that nigga, man. Hey you know where they went?
I seen 'em going down by the lake
What the fuck!
You good man? You need some sherm? I got some
I got a can of these baked beans too

[Verse]
Went to Six Flags, six fags came up
And said "Ayo! Can we get a pic?" I said no
And they said "Oh! It's Wolf Gang, "Yonkers", Goblin is my shit though"
Now I'm like, "fuck, I don't want to be an asshole"
So I'm sitting there posing with Travis, Devon
With a fake smile like her titties was drawing it on
So fucking annoyed 'cause I missed Goliath
'Cause some kid said I was there, then they caused a riot (Tyler's here!)
Now I'm surrounded by a 25 hound of fuckers tryna get a photo
All because they noticed the top with the box logo
And them fucking ears, guarantee they didn't even hear Bastard
They bandwagon-jumped me from a pogo
I'm going fucking loco, "Hey, Tyler, can I...?"
No, bitch, don't you see me tryna buy a fucking churro?
"But Tyler, you're my hero, I used to get bullied
Until I heard "Radicals," the last part got to me
See, I used to give a fuck until my cock would bleed
Now I'm the happiest I think I'll ever ever be
My life is just like yours, no father
My momma must have forgot to stop with a popped condom
In school I was the one that was thinking outside boxes
So everybody in them would say that I got problems
So when I heard you say it, I said it back like fuck 'em
You're an inspiration to niggas like me
Not the niggas who just like you 'cause of lyrics and beats
I'm talking 'bout the niggas who don't know where they're going to be
I heard the song "Bastard" right in the moment of heat
Not in summer, but of course, I was holding a heat
Gun on the edge of my feet, I heard that first piano chord
And it drew me in like predators carrying treats
Then I said to myself, "Fuck, is he speaking to me?"
See, me and you, we go together like snare and a beat
I mean snare and a kick drum, see my forearm?
I carved OF on it this morning with a glass shard
On my green mini ramp that I built in my backyard (that's weird)
That's hard, that scar from playing air guitar
When I see you play at the Roxy (uhh)
Tyler, I love you, wanna be just like you (alright)
I think about your face and I don't even fucking try to (no homo)
Wish I had a basement meant for me to hide you
We could play Xbox and listen to "In Search Of..." and eat donuts
Over conversating 'bout what church does
Come up with weird-ass videos with roach bugs
I'm straight edge too, so no drugs on this trip
And Raquel that bitch, you should've killed that bitch
You should've took me instead (uhh, that's weird)
See, if you can't have her then he shouldn't neither
And if I can't have you then she shouldn't either
No one should see you, but me in your t-shirt
I worship you until the fucking wrinkles on my knees hurt (what the fuck)
Odd Future, Wolf Gang, Golf Wang, Flog Gnaw, free Earl mobbing
I know it seems like I'm just slobbing on your knob
But I'm just a fan and I ain't losing my fucking noggin (yeah, you are)
I ain't got a job and I went out and bought Goblin about 5 times
'Cause (Thanks for the support) I love you man (alright)
I like tie-dyed tees or just plain white tees
I like pants that's cut, I like words like "fuck"
I got your pics on my wall with the mouth cut out
Now paper cuts on my balls because your dick's in my jaw (what the fuck)
And I hit you on Twitter about 10 minutes a day
And now I'm bitter 'cause you don't even reply with a "hey" (sorry)
And my boys think I'm gay 'cause I play "VCR"
In my car all alone speakers waking up neighbors..."
All right, my nigga, calm down, it's getting weird, take this pic
So I can get on Colossus, line as slow as molasses
(Tyler, listen) No, nigga, I see you're loving my shit
And I appreciate the fact that you would suck on my dick
But I'm not gay so it's awkward, now I'm grouchy like Oscar
After spilling some shit on his newest pair of beige Dockers
"Yonkers" and "Yonkers" (I love that song) Sick of hearing about "Yonkers"
I'm grateful that it worked, I attacked and I conquered
"Yeah whatever but I had a fucking blast at that concert
I was at the Boston one, I got a t-shirt from Sagan
The one that say "Sagan Lockhart" and when you came out to "Sandwitches"
That's when my fucking boy-crush got started"

[Outro]
Just take this fucking picture man, shit...

[Intro: Nas]
Crack fucked up the world
And I wonder if they realized the damage
I mean, they come from an era
Who made a lot of money off that shit
And I wonder if it fucked with they conscience
It fucked with me being out there, I couldn't stand it
I couldn't stand seeing people fucking theyselves up like that on the shit
And that's where the money came from

[Chorus: Tyler The Creator & Frank Ocean]
Forty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)
Forty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)
They call me Mr. Treat Your Nose
If you really need some blow, I can get it for the low, nigga
Forty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)
Forty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)
They call me Mr. Treat Your Nose
If you really need some blow, I can get it for the low, nigga

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
Shit's getting warmer, on that corner
Gotta watch out for them 5-0 foreigners
Your mother's a goner
I warned you before you supersized my fries with that dollar
You got a daughter, shit's getting harder
The only thing you wanna bunk her was your freedom
You can't afford to get caught up but you in too deep
And the seashore ain't saw ya
You got a mother, she don't support you
But you bought her a new house cause you love her
Growing up you barely had a roof
Now you got a coupe and it doesn't have a roof
I guess you're accustomed what you're used to
So you bought two, nigga
They coming for you, nigga
Niggas be hating, I'm doing them bitches
Like Susan and Karen be doing your pockets
And running the man and he's losing his fucking mind
And it's all an illusion
Who was alludin' all of this potent?
I am the reason your family is using and shooting up
It's my fault
You can, blame me, motherfucker
For killing your aunties and uncles
The hustle and hunger
All I wanted was a cheeseburger
And a little chain, tucked
Didn't realize this game fucked, up some lives
Oh, how's mine?
My conscience eats it up all the time but, other than that, I'm fine
I got a little money in my pocket

[Chorus: Tyler The Creator & Frank Ocean]
Forty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)
Forty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)
They call me Mr. Treat Your Nose
If you really need some blow, I can get it for the low, nigga
Forty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)
Forty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)
They call me Mr. Treat Your Nose
If you really need some blow, I can get it for the low, nigga

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
Nigga, we broke as fuck
Homie got a chop shop, I stole that truck
And I sold that dope, motherfuckers hope this nigga go broke
But like my work, I give no fucks, I'm sorry (Yeah)
She could have been a doctor, nigga, I'm sorry (Yeah, nigga)
Could have been an actor and won that Oscar, said I'm sorry
I sold that soap, and I killed black folk, I'm sorry (Yeah, nigga)
But I got a nice car, put my sister through school
While my mama all cool, I'm sorry (Yeah, nigga)
I'm in too deep and I can't see the shore, I'm sorry

[Outro: Nas & Tyler, The Creator]
You get addicted to the flip, we used to call it
You get addicted to the flip (I'm sorry)
The, the, the, the transaction, the hustling (I'm sorry)
Even more than the money, it's just your job (I'm sorry)
You feel like it's your duty to be the man in between the man
And make this happen for that person (I'm sorry)
And to do this and do that
You become the go to guy, you know, forever
Next thing you know you're in too deep
Way too deep, it'll scare the shit out of you
You wind up with so much work, that you'd be scared to death
It's important for us to realize, man, we gotta get out of that, man
You know, dudes is buying choppers
Shoot down the people that look just like them
Dudes is buying guns to take down each other
Nobody wins, ya know what I mean?

[Chorus: Tyler, The Creator]
Me and Slater just hit a curb
Bunnyhop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D. (Star Trak)
Made a couple thousand turds spitting written verbs
Shit (What?), now I kick it in the 'burbs

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
Me? I'm from the slums, niggas who push a ton
Ton of drums, with foul flow, dirty mouth, like kissing bums
Mama done made her one, um, a witty son
With no respect for women, so show me your titties, hun (What?)
You eighteen? Me? I'm twenty-somethin'
Okay, I'm twenty, but I'm soon to be twenty-one
I wild out at shows, break shit, it should be fun
Venues are like pussy with me, "Should he come?"
I'ma wax that like the chapstick in my backpack for my black lips
Then dip to Europe and come back with a stack of cheese
A stack of cheese for these rats, um, that mac and cheese
New 'Preme shit got me feeling flyer than a bag of bees
Fuck critics ("How's your dick?") Shit, how's your knees?
Y'all on my dick more than my index when I take a pee (Damn)
I came up with ''Rella'', ain't touch a bag of weed (Word?)
Shit was doper than Whitney Houston's needs
Golf Wang, that's the team to be, ayy
Getting T.U., O.F., indeed
We was missing Sweatshirt, like "Where's the hooded sleeve?"
Okay, never mind, we found him, yeah

[Chorus: Tyler, The Creator]
Me and Slater just hit a curb
Bunnyhop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D.​
Made a couple thousand turds spitting written verbs
Shit, now I kick it in the 'burbs

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
Guess I win, checks started cashing in
I stop rapping and start asking where my fucking passion is
Probably where that faggot went (Who?) Tyler talking father problems
Shocking shit, he spit to popping topics in them gossip columns
I ain't ask for this, I did it out of boredom
Thought that roach was cool, he died and pushed me into stardom
Now; Ye's, PJs, sipping leche
Chips Ahoy, boy, listening to "Cowboy", ayy!
Boy, land in Melbourne and skate to Fitzroy, ayy!
AUS was awes', I enjoyed, boy
Y'all niggas played as a tot's toy
Have a good day as I annoy, oi

[Chorus: Tyler, The Creator]
Me and Slater just hit a curb
Bunnyhop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D.​
Made a couple thousand turds spitting written verbs
Shit, now I kick it in the 'burbs

[Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator]
Canons with panorama views
My shoes that seen more vans than Mexicanas
Or crackers in Alabama
G-O-to-the-L-F, this OF
I opened up a store so I don't stress
But, nigga, I (What?), mosh in gardens
Jazz punk shit, playing chords
Making up shit, pardon my Dolly Partons
And I keep shartin'
Hoodies with rectangles and different colors
Niggers think I started kindergarten

[Interlude: Tyler, The Creator, Frank Ocean & Both]
My bitch is on my handle bars
I, just, wanna, ride, my bike
Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater
My bitch is on my handle bars
Hair blowing in the wind
Her freckles look like candy bars
Hair blowing in the wind
My bitch is on my handle bars
I, just, wanna, ride, my bike
Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater
My bitch is on my handle bars (Handle bars)
Hair blowing in the wind (Ooh)
Her freckles look like candy bars (Shit)
My cool summer never ends (Cool)
My bitch is on my handle bars
Yeah (Bars, bars)
Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater

[Outro: Frank Ocean]
Oh my God, seriously? Mister Cool Guy, haha
You're talking to a fucking bike, loser
Hehe, oh fuck