TYLER THE CREATOR

TYLER THE CREATOR - Slater Escape-ism

rate me

Me and slater just hit a curb

Bunny hops only god was listening to nerds

Made a couple thousand turns, spitting whip and verbs

Now I kick it in the burbs, me I’m from the slums

Niggas who push a ton, tenem drum,

With foul flow dirty now if I kiss and bum

Mama didn’t made her one, a woody son

With no respect for women, so show me your titties hon

You’re 18, me, I’m 20 something

Ok I’m 20, but I’m soon to be 21

I wail out at shows, break shit it should be fun

Venues are like pussy to me, shit it come

I’ma wax out like the chopstick in my back

Half of my black lips, then dip to your...

Be come back with a stack of cheese

Stack of cheese for these rats,

The lack of chese, new prime shit

Got me filling flad and a bag of bees

Fuck critics, shit, how’s your knees?

Yell on my dick more than my index

While I take a pee

I came aparella, touch a bag of weed

Shit was doper than, whitney houston’s niece

Golf white, as a team to be aid

Getting tyof indeed, you was missing sweat shirt like

Where’s the ...sweave, ok, never mind we found them, yeah

Me and slater just hit a curb

Bunny hops only god was listening to nerds

Made a couple thousand turns, spitting whip and verbs

Now I kick it in the burbs,

Guess I went checks started cashing and might stop rapping

I start asking where my fuckin passion is

Prolly where that fagot went

Hoop, tyler talking, father problems, shock shitty spit to popping topics

Some of gossip collar

Damn, I ain’t ask for this, I did it out of boredom

Thought that roach was cool, he died and pushed me in the stardom

Nowadays it’s pj’s, sippin like chain

Ship’s ahoy, boy, listening to cowboy

Hey boy, lend the mail, burn the state defense boy

Ous was ous I enjoy, boy

Y’all niggas play as the tops toy

Have a good day as I annoy, oi

Me and slater just hit a curb

Bunny hops only god was listening to nerds

Made a couple thousand turns, spitting whip and verbs

Now I kick it in the burbs,

Candles with panorama, fuse,

My shoes seen more vans than mexicans and crackers in alabama

Go to the lf, this old f, I open up the stove so I don’t stress

But nigga I, what, marcy gard is, jazz punk shit

Playing chorus making up shit, pardon my dolly partons

And I keep shardons, hoodies with rectangles and different colors

Niggas think I started kindergarten

My bitch is on my handle bars

I just wanna ride my bike, 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

My bitch is on my handle bars

Hair blowing in the wind

Her freckles look like candy bars

My cool summer never ends

My bitch is on my handle bars, bars, bars

Slater, slater, slater, slater.

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