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tyler, the creator & a$ap rocky - potato salad lyrics

[intro: tyler, the creator]
yo, now you gon’ start me from the top? listen
shout out harlem, man
shout out a$ap rocky, man
awge in the building, man
what’s good? is that potato salad?
yo, listen

[verse 1: tyler, the creator]
n-ggas give me the cold shoulder, i can speak for myself
so i keep a high waist and alligator the belt
and got a belt with the holster, i ain’t playing games
but got some lil’ n-ggas who would do it so i p-ss the controller
you get pressed and x out, tri-angle your nose
pause your life if you squares try to mess with my o’s, whoa
so cut the cr-p like sh-t barbers
cause we really with the beef like closeted g-y fathers
n-gga we get dollars, give ’em to ben baller
exchange for them chains that’s all shiny with thick water
i got back pains, neck heavy like whipped cream
my whip clean, and they all white, i whip cream
and cop boys and i joy stick, i whip cream and cop cribs
i got more sp-ce than big jeans, y’all sleeping on me
explain why they got sh-t dreams
i’m alien, got the laser gun with the big beam
married to the money, my b-tch green
no i don’t sip lean, but ride around in rockets like yao ming
y’all n-ggas weak
they thought i was goofy and all mouses
double c my luggage and fill them with comme blouses
y’all cop kush, my n-gga i cop houses
and fill ’em with some leo dicap’s and some cole sprouses, n-gga
where we? rocky, a$ap
golf, boy, where we at? n-gga in paris

[verse 2: a$ap rocky]
f-ck clothes, i cop pieces
couple thots with me and them hoes is like divas
got my vans on but they look like sneakers
flipped a couple packs, basedgod in the speakers
b-ss all in the speakers
in the field like baseball, play ball, face wall when polices come
i don’t rock chanel, i rock channel
and no this ain’t a purse, it’s a satchel (at you)
bless, at you, nah, i ain’t sneeze
but if n-ggas want steam or smoke, bet i match you
got a bullet with your name on the barrel
if hollows don’t clip, you get nip like it’s cat food
that dude, when i die, they gotta make a statue
bad att-tude, this ain’t a purse, it’s a satchel
go to any n-gga with money up in my bracket
then i think about the state of rapping
all the freshmens in the cl-sses
all the super seniors’ mumblin’ and ramblin’
mumblin and rappin’, mumble rapping?
i find it hard to find actual talent
i find it hard to find an actual challenge
i’m like shabazz palace’s last acid hit, elaborate
rap lab’s labyrinth, word to kodak’s black’s lazarus
“calldrops” on the album skits

[verse 3: tyler, the creator]
ayo, i’m the channel that you watch, i’m the ammo in the glock
weird n-gga, full suit with the sandals and the socks, stop
and based on my neck boy
you would think i hate gl-ss homes way i’m handling the rocks
who cast the first stone? b-tch, it’s me, f-ck you thought?
real grunge n-gga, i ain’t got a flannel as the top
and i’m picking up guitar, strum n-gga
bum n-ggas wish they could make a garden shed
but they sleeping on me man like their arm is dead
i’m a wild n-gga boy and you farmer bred, born
you ain’t animal, you are, corn, hahah, yeah!

[outro: tyler, the creator]
k shiz, what up, n-gga!

- tyler the creator aap rocky lyrics

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