[Intro: Tallulah]
Tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale!

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
They say I've calmed down since the last album
Well, lick my dick, how does that sound? Um
Smell my gooch, you could kiss my buns
And I don't give a shit, bend my rectum
Somebody said bands make her dance
She thinks you're getting cash, no, bitch, you're dumb
The only thing that you're gonna get is this dick
Wait, turn this up, bitch, this my jam (Where the drums at?)
Here, take a goddamn picture
And tell Spike Lee he's a goddamn nig​ger
And while you're at it, pass the lotion
And fapping and Xbox Live, that fun
Before I cum, I call your sister
When she comes over, I take picture
Instantly put it on Instagram
And suplex her off a building if I get banned
(I'm just fucking around)

[Chorus: Tallulah & Tyler, The Creator]
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Why y'all so salty?
Hot tamale is on
A can of beans, bitch, I'm on
Your boy is bad to the bone

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
Bring back the horns that was played in the beginning
And tell Tony Parker that I found his vision
And if he's tripping off my sneak dissing (Uh)
Then he has to deal with me and my minions
Tryna get a Bimmer, E46
Have you heard "48"? Motherfucker, I'm great (Yeah)
Golf Wang prints always cover the sleeves
From cuts for the Biebs, 'cause he's puffin' the trees, please
Fuck I look like? Got a new bike
Tire never pop like the puss on a butch dyke
Think I give a fuck, I do, I go raw
Then I bust in her jaw like (Fuck that disease, bitch!)
My urethra, hole that I pee from
Bigger than the obese neck on Aretha
Now turn that snare down, I'm back like I'm Rosa Parks fare
On the same damn bus like, "You're going to jail now"

[Chorus: Tallulah & Tyler, The Creator]
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Why y'all so salty?
Hot tamale is on
A can of beans, bitch, I'm on
Your boy is bad to the bone

[Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator]
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck
If a woodchuck could ever give a fuck? Bitch, suck dick
Motherfuck' you and your opinions
(Can you kick it?) Yes, I can sir, where the lump is
Sicker than the last bar bold-er, I'm a CO
Colorado, fuck Michael, bitch, I'm badder than my BO
Find me and Lance tryna dance during chemo
Before they repossess our strong arm bands and tuxedos

[Chorus: Tallulah & Tyler, The Creator]
Yeah, buddy, this is my jam, na, na, na, na, na, na, na!
Golf Wang, Golf Wang, no, fuck you, na, na, na, na, na, na!
Why y'all so salty?
Hot tamale is on
A can of beans, bitch, I'm on
Your boy is bad to the bone

[Verse 4: Tyler, The Creator]
How many fags can a lightbulb screw?
Well, if it has a dick, maybe two or six
And tell the NRA I'm about to lose my shit
And shoot through Wayne LaPierre's hair with a crucifix
How many ladies in the house?
How many ladies in the house without a rich nigga, huh?
A little Jergens in my palm for the jerkin'
Hope my mom don't catch me
Tryna set mood, little RedTube, fuck lotion
I don't need lube, dry fist suits me (Yeah)
Up and down, friction make a *fap fap* sound
The shit's kind of disgusting, fap time
And before I flatline, Clancy chimes in my room and catch me
This shit's so damn embarrassing, like—

[Outro: Tyler, The Creator & Christian Clancy]
Oh, shit, aw, fuck
What the fuck?
Aw, I'm sorry
Is that my shirt?
Yeah, I'm sorry, I just wanted some bangs
Clean that shit up, we're going to the office!
Fuck

[Intro: Bunny Sigler]
"Yeah!"
"You feel alright?"
"Yeah!"

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
God, goodness gracious
I can't wait to see the look on y'all niggas faces
That boy T nuts, surprised his thoughts isn't chafing
And fuck them crackers up at Mountain Dew, them niggas is racist
Cabbage was made, critic faggots was shook
So I told 'em that I'll exchange the word "faggot" with "book"
And all them "books" is pissed off and had they page in a bunch
Fucking attitude switched just like a "book" when it struts
But I'm a fraud, I pray to God when the six triple "book" bashing
While me and my favorite author's lips tickle
Peter Parker pick a pack of peppers when the plot thickens
Tyler, The Creator fucking kill you with a popsicle
Cold blooded, so we rock mittens so they won't find him
Not kidding, keep the Tommy on me; bitch, I'm Ms. Pickles
Said I seemed off, last time that team talked
Sick of making niggas cabbage so I took the 'Preme off
Should've bought some stock in it (Yo, it's fucked up, I get it, put a sock in it)
Not Golf when the little homies don't—wait, let's weigh my options
I bought me a mansion, and bought some attention
Ain't give none to Hopsin, and dear Boyce Watkins
Why you mad? It's the slave in me
It's facts, boy, I'm back like Rosa Parks's least favorite seat
Videos, stage dives, popups, they watching T
While y'all niggas watching the throne, the throne be watching me

[Interlude: Shane Powers, Tyler, The Creator, Bunny Sigler]
"If you fuck this up... There are so many fucking kids right now, listening to this guy."
("Yeah!"—"You feel alright?"—"Yeah!")
"Get those wings flapping, motherfucker! 'Cause this kid's ready to fucking fly."
("Yeah!"—"You feel alright?"—"Yeah!")
Eenie, meenie, miney, mo, nigga, nigga on the wall
Rap bars, jail bars, die or shoot a basketball
Tyler, the dark skin arrested in Austin
Cops know who I was cause their kids said the show was awesome
("Yeah!"—"You feel alright?"—"Yeah!")
"Tyler, Tyler, I swear to—I swear to fuck! If you fucking... Do not fuck this up! You have the whole world in your fucking hands."
("Yeah!"—"You feel alright?"—"Yeah!")

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
How many leaders in the house?
Well can somebody bring the mirrors out? I'm getting lonely
Likes and apologies and snaps make it obvious
That everybody on this fucking planet lacking confidence
How many leaders in the house? (Do not fuck this up!)
Well can somebody bring the camera out so I can film me?
T a great director, niggas' vision must be blurry
Boy, I get them epic shots like jaywalking in Missouri
Wait, how many leaders in the house?
Well can somebody bring my album out so I can hear one?
Pour me a drink, shit, I don't know what to think
Cause all these niggas leaning like they Forest Whitaker's blink
Wait, how many leaders in the house?
See why nobody got they hands up? See, that's the issue

Things are getting worse
Every day
I think it started
When you went away

All I need
Is to feel
Like someone could love me

Her words are salt
On a wound
And I’m hoping that something
Happens soon