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tyler the creator - slater lyrics

me and slater just hit a curb,
bunny hop, zoning out, listening to n.e.r.d.
made a couple thousands t-rds spitting written verbs
sh-t, now i kick it in the ‘burbs

me? i’m from the slums, n-gg-s who pushing tons
tons of drugs, foul flow dirty mouth like kissing b-ms
momma done made her one, a witty son
with no respect for women so-so, show me your t-tties hun
“you eighteen?”, me? i’m twenty something
okay i’m twenty, but i’m soon to be twenty-one
i wild out at shows, break sh-t it should be fun
venues are like p-ssy with me, “should he c-m?”
i’mma wax that like the chapstick in my backpack, for my black lips
then dip to europe and come back with a stack of cheese
a stack of cheese for these rats, mac and cheese
new preme sh-t got me feeling flyer than a bag of bees
f-ck critics, (how’s your d-ck?), “sh-t, how’s your knees?”
y’all on my d-ck more than my index when i take a pee
came up with ”rella”, ain’t touch a bag of weed
sh-t was doper than, whitney houston’s needs
golf w-ng, that’s the team to be, “aye!”, getting tu, of, indeed
we was missing sweatshirt like, where’s the hooded sleeve
okay, nevermind, we found him

me and slater just hit a curb,
bunny hop, zoning out, listening to n.e.r.d.
made a couple thousands t-rds spitting written verbs
sh-t, now i kick it in the ‘burbs

guess i win, checks started cashing in,
i stopped rapping and started asking “where my f-cking p-ssion is?”,
probably where that f-ggot went (who?), tyler talking father problems,
shocky sh-t he spit to popping topics in a gossip column,
i ain’t ask for this, i did it out of boredom,
thought that roach was cool, he died and pushed me into stardom,
now ye’s pj sippin leche, chips ahoy! boy, listening to cowboy,
aye boy, land in melbourne and skate to fitzroy (aye!),
aus was awes, i enjoyed, boy, y’all n-gg-s played as a tot’s toy,
have a good day as i annoy, oi.

me and slater just hit a curb,
bunny hop, zoning out, listening to n.e.r.d.
made a couple thousands t-rds spitting written verbs
sh-t, now i kick it in the ‘burbs

cameras with panorama’s views
my shoes have seen more vans than mexicanas with crackers in alabama
g-o-to the-l-f, this o-f, i open a store so i don’t stress
but n-gg- i, (what?), mosh in gardens, jazz punk sh-t
playing chords, making up sh-t, pardon my dolly parton’s
and i keep sharting, hoodies with rectangles and different colors
n-gg-rs think i started kindergarten

[interlude: frank ocean, tyler, the creator]
my b-tch is on my handle bars
(i just wanna ride my bike)
slater, slater, slater, slater
my b-tch is on my handle bars
hair blowing in the wind
her freckles look like candy bars
hair blowing in the wind

my b-tch is on my handle bars
(i just wanna ride my bike)
slater, slater, slater, slater
my b-tch is on my handle bars
hair blowing in the wind
her freckles look like candy bars
my cool summer never ends

slater, slater, slater, slater

oh my god, seriously? mister cool guy
you’re talking to a f-cking bike, loser
(haha)
oh…f-ck.

- tyler the creator lyrics

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