TYLER THE CREATOR - Rusty lyrics

rate me

Wathch me get this money nigga,

Tired of being hungry nigga

Nothing funny, sass me while I’m thrashing

I’ma punch you nigga

Never made a plastic, I’ma savage

You look lunch my nigga

Passing all you hating fucking fags, we don’t discuss my nigga

We ain’t know no charlie sheen and we don’t pop no mollies bitch

I’m honkin, spitting got some niggas out here popping all these switch

Bunch of novices, odd future the squad, it’s 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

From stupid niggas who all said our hype is dying please

My pockets solid, making profit off the highers tees

Bitch, murks twerk as I get on the verse, curse you

Nigga dime so cool I will firm in 3rd person

Watch me get this money, I’m up when the birds twerking

Make actions fuck rehearsing

[Hook]

Nigga, summer, fall, winter time,

24/ 365, you nigga gonn give me mine

I don’t have plenty time

Flying out at any time

Getting money any prime

You niggas gonn give me mine

You niggas gonn give me mine

24/ 365, you nigga gonn give me mine

I don’t have plenty time

Flying out at any time

Getting money any prime

You niggas gonn give me mine

You niggas gonn give me mine

In a world where kids my age are popping mollies with leather

Sitting on tumblr, never outside there enkoying the weather

Can name a sweater, but not a talent

Of don’t know if whether or not they got one

Try to change the life for the better

I was the drama club kid, I run with the fun dit

My nuts itch, that waas defined, always said fuck shit

Hated the popular ones, now I’m the popular one

Also hated homes too, till I started coppin me some

See I don’t bees in the trap nigga

I bees in the bees

And I be casting out my buzz like some bees at a shell

Fucking sick and getting bigger like I sneezed on Adele

And bitches getting touchy feeling like they reading some braille

I bust quick like gun holders with short tempers and well

I try to tell the kids like fuck it, start being yourselves

These fuckin rappers got sylists cause they can’t think for themselves

See them don’t have an identity, so they needed some help

Boy, really boy, poses with the silly boy

I’m in that passis and prime shit, older than titty boy

Not a diss but same with icecream, my shit is diddy reese

Na’kel smith,, trans world paid 60 for it

Poppin like oil, ollies and fireflames

I’m harder than dj khaled playing the fuckin quiet game

The fuck am I saying, tyler ain’t even a violent name

I’m bout as threatening as stained windbreakers in hurricanes

But he rapes women, and spit wrong, like he hate dentists

God damn menace, 666 and he’s not finished

And my shit’s missing, he hates women, but loves kittens

See y’all niggas trippin man

Look at the article that says my subject matter is wrong

Saying I hate gays even though frank is on 10 of my songs

Look at the 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 tired 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 satann

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

Brah, they never played it, I just won shit for their fucking ratings

Analog fanse 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 banl

Over and over, shit, who gives a fuck what I think?

My fans don’t think 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]

Nigga, summer, fall, winter time,

24/ 365, you nigga gonn give me mine

I don’t have plenty time

Flying out at any time

Getting money any prime

You niggas gonn give me mine

You niggas gonn give me mine

24/ 365, you nigga gonn give me mine

I don’t have plenty time

Flying out at any time

Getting money any prime

You niggas gonn give me mine

You niggas gonn give me mine

This shit’s 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 pssible

Why don’t you jump you fucking pussy?

All I’m seeing is the drop in my occular, jumping like they told me

That’s 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

And comapre to fucking pair em with all the program kits

So maybe a pair of pale bitches for the gonads lick, I’ll show you

Malt liqor filling me up, and all us not giving no fucks

And all of them sensitive chumps in awe when that pistol erupts

Dirty been spittin the sumpy raw till his wrists in the cuffs.