TYLER THE CREATOR - Double Cheeseburger

rate me

[Verse 1: Domo]

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Shoot for the sky like a church league, y'all heard me

Absurd G, Chickens clucking for bird seeds

But I gotta apologize, no grease like zerse leaves

Won't heat or burn me, I'm the coolest nigga here

Usually defecation, now I'm pissing in your ear

My tablet is the ratchet and the pistols in the rear

I'll bang if it was bangless, now the tracks no longer here

Metaphor, chilling with better whores

Smoking then later on, I bone them like Skelator

What would I sell this for, this is free distribution

Style, they straight jack it like mental institutions

Outfits is ruthless, now your bitch is choosing

She floating round winners, now your bitch you losing

Yeah, cause I'm the Super Sega Genesis

Salute me gaining into it and you can't get no membership, little bitch

[Verse 2: Tyler]

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip

Of my dick, head, melon off and let it rip

Just like a cannon from the teen in Nick

That's equivalent, to the poison in a cigarette

Tyler the creator invented some new shit

And it probably from the Illuminati, nazi decent, so

If I give a fuck, it's probably from my dick

When I'm chaining in your daughter, she's tied up inside a tent, yeah

Odd Future Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang presents

We're back like a black bitch's hairline, indent the

Shit I represent is killing niggas and shit

That's why I traded R. Kelly my sister for a new hit

I get it cracking like the lips of a nigger, actor

Or a Dahmer, when he invited me in for cheese and crackers

Just to watch the Grammy's (Oh that's Taylor Swift) Man she's so attractive

Now he's mad and tryna run me over out with Jason's tractor

Hop over, run backwards, with a nap sack of green Supreme hats

Like I was sponsored up by the fucking Packers

Shitting on niggas, my tongue considered a laxative

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like Rihanna lip

Back washing to my gang, you don't wanna take a sip

Fuck Wolf Gang, fuck what? Here let's take a trip

Take a look, to this bullet, now my finger slipped

My only purpose in life to kill myself up on accident

Fresh jive, yeah I get it no charge

Dick soft as fuck, but somehow I go hard

Forearm with my gang name, that's an old carve

Chima Ferguson's bangin', you Ace niggas is low carb, Wolf Gang


Niggas rolling deep, burners pulled out

Niggas in the street scared, cause I got the burner in the head...

Get this song at:  amazon.com  sheetmusicplus.com

Share your thoughts

0 Comments found