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tyler the creator – parking lot lyrics


[verse 1: tyler, the creator]
tall ugly n-gg- with lips bigger than tigger,
only blue print on these vans like i don’t listen to jigger, (uhh),
cotton-picking n-gg-r, golf w-ng season sicker than the block,
(?) and skateshops, where wolves deal ‘em, (uhh),
workshop is awesome, ask (?) and let’s pretend like,
i’m not making dollar bill withers on these f-cking stickers, (uhm),
pulling down my zipper and she quick to say she doesn’t suck,
b-tch, cut the cr-p like dyk- booty when they scissor, (uhh)
pink haired mrs, i’m her mister, sipping slurpees, bag of chips,
now show your t-ts for mister fuji, take a picture, (uhh),
of is popping like a blister, need some listerine,
spitting got us balling like we mr. clean’s sister, (uhh),
sick of being black, sipping paint thinner, (?),
plotting on the babysitter before dinner, and hopefully i get her, if i don’t, f-ck it then, see i never simp son, pull the opposite of smithers, i’m done b-tch

[hook: casey veggies & tyler, the creator]
until the ozone leaves and the earth is hot,
loiter squad lurking in the parking lot,
the moon not working and the stars align,
i stay golden, y’all thought i was out my mind,
loiter squad lurking in the parking lot,
loiter squad lurking in the parking lot,
loiter squad lurking in the parking lot

[verse 2: tyler, the creator]
(somebody told me…)
i had a decline in the buzz, not a shocker bruh, i had the stun gun in my b-m,
and when i drop sh-t you better have a towel and a sponge,
and ask why b-tch, i eat a ton bucket of chum,
in bikini bottom, i am the biggest problem,
this sh-t fishy n-gg-s dip like we were set in harlem,
eaters turn them into nuggets like carmelo anthon(y),
we just sit and burn sh-t just like my f-cking anthem

[verse 3: mike g]
i’m like goals, those is something you have to stand to reach,
my campaign speech elect me, commander in chief,
respect to me is ever minor, appearances cause m-ss hysteria,
but i’m still uncomparable, i’m like the face of america,
i’m the amb-ssador from a land made of gold,
i’m a f-ckin’ centerfold, i’m somethin’ to behold,
i can kill a hundred shows, take on for the road,
i’m results of putting persistent pressure on coals


[verse 4: tyler, the creator]
it’s a dog eat dog world, don’t get bit bruh,
a son of a b-tch i am, yup, i’m a sick pup,
(i thought that you were nice)
yeah i am sl-t,
i’m also half -ss a racist who hates n-gg-s, yep i’m a mixed mutt
preme is the top bunk, green is the pillow case,
golf is the bedsheets, (hat and my t-shirt),
trashw-ng sticker on that (?),
(?) with the box, and i murder with the pen,
it’s bimmer boy’s boy never swerving in the benz,
i’m listening to dead sam demos on the ten,
can i get a medium with cheese and bacon?

it’s loiter squad n-gg-…
f-cking loiter squad…