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tyler, the creator - raw freestyle ( the life like ) lyrics lyrics

yeah, yeah, uhh, they, f-ck… alright, uhh, yeah
they ask me if i’m tyler, the nasty n-gg- that used to be in 7th grade watching degr-ssi
but y’all n-gg-s in your whips with your rims and your hat with the brims, rolling right past me
but i could give a f-ck about what you doing, who you scr-w-ng, who you booing
i got these b-tches brewing in my gold pot, you could see the rolex, the gold watch
see them gold supras but you won’t stop
i’m in that bape sh-t or that bathing ape sh-t, that sh-t that make you think my superman hoodie is cape sh-t
you on that fake sh-t, that true religion, abrecrombie, pastal
n-gg- my t-shirt is pastelle, my n-gg- i p-ss well
well p-ss and i p-ss that f-ckin cl-ss well
and when your b-tch seen me, she be like, oh my god you’re so skinny but man you’re so swell
i’m like i’m so swole, this bape sh-t is so old
older than the ice cream shoes i have that’s growing mould
and they say ace he a g*nius, i said i play piano make songs of big p-n-s
cause when i have to, listen to neptunes sh-t i’m never mars or venus
i’m seeing this, my 3d gl-sses still the cleanest, enis, -n-s
n-gg- you can paint this here’s the motherf-ckin brush
all you n-gg-s running but i’m still not in a rush and i’m winning
no braces off, but i’m grinning
don’t believe in god but i’m sinning, hingin
he man, and she man, and he mad, and hes dead
y’all want the rims but i’m still chillin’ in the motherf-ckin minivan like
what it do, what it do? f-ck you and your crew of til the death, naah
y’all know i do ill, y’all rep y’all set until the death my n-gg- this of until, until
and n-gg- that’s real, and n-gg- i’m raw, i’m bigger than my b-lls
s’leave the cold 86 degrees heat on me, with your b-tch screaming out my name gagging on her knees
and n-gg- i’m reeze, eating motherf-ckin ice cream reese’s pieces
n-gg- i’m the cesis, i’m the sh-t you can call me ace the creator aka feces
i eat em like i’m feces… a haha hah aha
what the f-ck is my problem? f-ck
a yo imma let this one ride out tho..
imma let the keys f-ck wit the drums.. you know…
a c e, o f m , bangin on your f m , yes
it was all a dream, now i got my own magazine…
word up, i’m out, peace

- tyler the creator lyrics

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