Karaoke Tron Cat av Tyler, the Creator — sjung med på texten på Singa

Tron Cat Karaoke

Tyler, the Creator

LåttextTron Cat

Satan's getting jealous

of the wolves

The demons say they

preferring us

Books on not giving a fuck

is what they're referring us

Wolves I know you

heard of us we're murderers

And young enough to

get the fucking priest to

come and flirt with us

You ##### rap about

fucking bitches and getting head

Instead I rap about

fucking bitches and getting heads

While you ##### stacking bread

I can stack a couple dead

Bodies making red look

less of a color more of a hobby

I'm not a rapper

nor a rapist nor a racist

I fuck bitches with no permission

and tend to hate shit

Brag about the actions

in a rhyming pattern matter

Then proceed to sat her down

when I go splatter

in her chatterbox

Atta boy Odd Future

You're not in our category

Torture with the super soaker

at the Asian liquor store

This the type of shit that

make a Chris Brown

want to kick a whore

That make songs about

the wet blockers

when it rains and pours

I hate this

Screaming fuck patience

Got a ##### shaking

like the calmest fucking Haitian

After chronic masturbation

asking where Mary Kate went

I want to be the reasons

why all lesbians hate dick

I make this damn Bullwinkle

the red moose

Game of duck duck duct tape

with a dead goose

She running 'round this

motherfucking dungeon

her legs loose

Until I accidentally get

the saw to her head oops

Victim victim

Honey you're my fifth one

Honey on that topping

when I stuff you in my system

Rape a pregnant bitch and tell

my friends I had a threesome

You got a fucking death wish

I'm a genie it'll get done

Nice to meet you but it's

more pleasant to eat you

with a leaf of salad and some

dressing pouring out a teacup

Bitch I'm Tyler The Creature

Suck your feet up

like a beach of leeches

Rubber more than

the fucking bottom of a sneaker

Jeeper the fucking creeper

Get your daughter and keep her

in the jeeps where the Wolf Gang

rides around deeper

Take her to Ladera

Now she's scared and

you're embarrassed

Filled with terror

Chop her legs off and tell her

to run some errands

Put her eyes in a canteen

Take her to the Berrics

Stare at Steve

Say it costs ten to fuck Eric

Put her in the lake

Her body sinks great

Now it's time to

fish her like Derek

Satan says we're dangerous

We're trading kids for angel dust

And snuff and sniff and now that

Michael Jackson's trying to

suck our dick

Hippopot the fucking llamas

dead bodies cheerleading squaders

Gave the team a bunch of

fucking bees and the Keke Palmer

They will never

catch him or catch up

They asked me what it was

I told them fuckers

it was ketchup

Nutty like my Chex Mix

She bleeding from her rectum

Odd Future wolves stirring ruckus

Throwing sets up yeah

This the type of shit that

make children break in apartments

when you tell a fucking orphan

you don't love them

til their heart thin

Starve her til I carve her

then I shove her in the Rover

where I cut her like a barber

with a Parkinson's disorder

Store her in a portable freezer

with me to Portland

Catch me with a bunch of fucking

Mexicans crossing the border

I'll be the only wetback

who aingt really

touched the water

'Cause I'll be too fucking busy

tryna flirt with Jesus daughter

I'm awesome

and I fuck dolphins

Sicker than the starving

Nigerian kids barfing

Odd Future Wolf Gang

Nazi bar mitzvah

With your sister at the bar

playing leg and arm twister

Evident that I'm the shit

I'm the Pooh like Tigger dick

I got these cracker doctors

saying yeah Bob this ##### sick

Animal safari if I offend

you I'm sorry

Because I'm the blackest

skinhead since India Arie

I don't smoke weed so no

need for the matches

I said fuck coke and now

I'm snorting Hitler's ashes

I plan on either dying for

suicide or my asthma

Being the only bastard

in a box logo casket

Rashes on my dick from licks

of shishkabob Sagets

In some Kanye West glasses

screaming out fuck faggots

Catch me in my attic

taking photos of my dad's dick

Drop the beat here to

make it extra climactic

What the fuck

I I'm speechless

That was fuck

Shit Tyler you're you're

You're gonna need some help

I'm not a

Fuck it's different subject

How's that girl

you were telling me about

Komposition
Tyler Gregory Okonma
Låttext
The Creator Tyler
Utgivare
Sony ATV Songs Llc, Golf Wang Steak Sauce
Upphovsrättsinnehavare
The Creator Tyler, Tyler Gregory Okonma