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tyler, the creator - lucky charms (remix) lyrics

so many good reviews off of b+st+rd
i celebrated, getting m+st+rbated by my pastor
now he’s in plastic, on the kitchen table
near a bowl of lucky charms and the newest thrasher

[verse 1]
when i say wolf gang, you say f+ck that
a room full of wolves, inhalers, and used blunt wraps
fingers in the middle of b+tches bodacious b+tt cracks
enough f+cking atheist rappers to get a nun slapped
um, that’s not a potato, give me my gun back
before i blast bigger than pimples on big pun’s back
black fat b+tches was washin’ on my dishes
and using my large stick on her lips like my cum’s chapped
i love jews but i hate f+ggots
and b+tches who be nagging about me taking the trash out
i got a f+ckin’ can of whoop+ass, who wants to pack it
going ape sh+t in the newest bape straight jacket
with six d+cks of chapstick, sticking in my black lips
six sippie cups full of sick sh+t enhancements
wolf gang spit right
ain’t been this much f+ckin’ crack rock music since freeway had flip side
so get low, lower than a ditch
i’m with some r+t+rded b+tch, hoping she know how to kiss low
they know, i’m the clinic’s aid and i’m sick
so they clap for me kinda like a herpe on the lip
with some tutor b+tch, tryna tickle wetback hooter this
b+tch acting i still did not know with it
until i put this c+ck on, the end of cl+toris
f+cking this game i used this sh+t as spit as lubricant
so who you with? (umm, f+ck)
i got this f+ckin’ gun, you better say yes you stupid b+tch
before you lose your wrist and rich make you do some d+ck
i’m f+cking crazy, well i guess i am if these shoes will fit
f+ck the key club, they wanna ban ’em
i got f+cking fans from compton to montana
to indiana, where deaf dwarfs still don’t understand ’em
because yelling at midgets is like me beefing with brandun (f+ck him)
stomp ’em out, with these crab ass nikes
make it look like some slob, scribbled all on his white tee
invite me, come on, you got a better chance to getting shake
my dad and earl’s motherf+ckin’ momma to like me (b+tch)
animals is farming you, patrick this is barnacles
said he gave ace a sponge job at the carnival
and spongebob got his head knocked from the p+ss that ace got
n+gga’s soft as baby c+ck and the cotton swab
[verse] [dripwithout]
so many f+cking pharmacy plants
i made the cash and made this hoe dance
i just made cash and spent on more drugs
and then i spun (spinned}
i was high as f+ck smoking weed with a tractor (tractor)
why you lying to me you little stupid b+st+rd
i’m in the tractor, biches want me to be their f+cking
master (master)
glock in my pants and i’m spitting on the ground
oh sh+t i don’t know what to do know and this is foul
i just committed a crime and that was foul (foul)
(yeah)
so many good dang reviews on this album
i might become a pastor (pastor)
listening to sh+t in my headphones (huh) (yeah)
make this sh+t faster
[verse 2}
this that f+ck music, put your sh+t and f+ck to it
shouldn’t give one when your bumping in the trunk to it
grab a couple gats, stuff ’em in your backpack and then take ’em to school
for show and tell day screamin’ “f+ck students”
locate the b+tch that didn’t wanna give you kiss
then get her tits, then use your fists to add a couple lumps to it
shoot the faculty for taking hats, you stupid b+tts
skip the music teacher and the janitor you real cool with
continue this procedure until lunch is through with
go home out the back like a scared student
keep a low pro, until you on your block
then you just make it home in time for new news brief at 2ish
stuck at all this bible study, sh+t is not fun
me and wolf gang go jump nuns for hot fun
playing with the bell when shots heard, and cops come
but i’m still punchin’ this b+tch out, i’m not done
sittin’ in my room m+st+rbating
truthful, these lyrics are relating like my dad did
i make music for teenagers and bad ass kids
b+st+rd touched more boys than your local church did
k!lling these n+ggas off quick
don’t believe me then watch me empty out a full clip
trigger being pulled, n+ggers in a ditch
that wasn’t bullets, that was copies of b+st+rd you b+tch

- tyler the creator lyrics

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