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tyler, the creator - mother lyrics

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so, now
don’t call me, n+gga

because your stupid ass over there stole a ++++
tryna impress a friend
and i’m a single parent, i’ve got bills to pay
i’m not tryna bail you outta jail, n+gga, ’cause you’re stupid as f+ck

yeah, momma told me not to come over there
y’all n+ggas lost and you trapped in your thoughts (mmm)
’cause you shoot and you k!ll over land you ain’t bought (mmm)
y’all probably gon’ end up dead or in jail (mmm)
momma told me not to come over there (mmm)
y’all n+ggas smoke and you drink ’til it’s dark (mmm)
and you think that it’s smart and i heard you sell dope (mmm)
and you rob and you steal, shoot your guns in the air (mmm)
momma told me not to come over there (bih)

and you hang and you press little n+ggas like me (bih)
outside a area, n0body care (bih)
momma told me not to come over there (bih)
y’all with the sh+ts, i was born with a gift (bih)
and if i fall in love, y’all can unwrap it quick (bih)
so i make sure that i’m never present (bih)
momma told me not to come over there (bih, bih, bih, bih)
that ain’t the move and n+ggas is goons (what?)
and that i’m a real n+gga, sh+t isn’t cool (bih)
said i should never abide by the rules of the street (ooh, ooh)
sh+t is real and it’s also not real (hey)
spray what you claim and f+ck up the building
spray up the party and rake all the bodies
n0body gon’ stop ’til somebody get k!lled (mmm)
momma told me not to come over there (ooh)
but that’s all y’all knew,
(mmm)
homie made sure n0body came to press lines, fine
momma told me not to come over there (mmm, yeah)
but y’all treat me right, y’all handle my fights (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
and told me not to ever, ever, ever, ever pick up this life (yeah, yeah)
i hope i did right (yeah)
[verse 2: tyler, the creator]
(woo, woo, woo)
had some other ideas in his head

i wake every mornin’, gettin’ ready (mmm)

life, got the cheese, want a slice? (uh, yeah)

with the p+ssy, what’s my vice?

sh+t sweet, like rice
with the sugar and the b+tter, got it from my grandmother (mmm)
i ain’t like the salt and pepper, lil’ n+gga from the gutter (mmm)
i don’t show it, but i know it (know it)

like stitches with a scar
daddy gone, i ain’t lyin’ (la+la)
that’s a bar, yeah, i said it (uh, uh)
like alarm, now set it (la+la)

[verse 3: tyler, the creator]
momma told me, 1970
youngest of seven, it wasn’t heavenly
home was south central, school’s beverly
brother locked up, sister strung out
high school president, ran for it

twenty, i popped out—
i was perfect, she ain’t need to plan for it (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey)
knew i was the future, she was clairvoyant (hey, hey, hey, hey)
touched me and she catch the hand (woo, woo, hey, woo)

college courses with me in her hand (hey, hey, hey, hey, hey)
asked her why she didn’t have a plan b
she said i wouldn’t understand
then, she had a daughter, the father had a baby momma (baby momma)

switched homes, ain’t right to me, light for me
she would always fight for me, yeah, she over+protect
’cause she had a momma who got a boyfriend who ain’t know how to keep hands to himself (mmm, hands to himself, n+gga)

mother



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