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[Part 6: Tyler, the Creator] Oh, you the motherfucking man, huh? Oh, you be fucking bitches, counting all the bands, huh? Oh, you be trapping out the bando selling grams, huh? Oh, you be smoking, drinking lean, and popping Xans, huh? You see, that's the bullshit that I don't need I'm telling y'all niggas, y'all ain't fucking with me See, I look in the mirror and he said, "You are the man" And I said, "Hey man, I agree" [Part 7: Tyler, the Creator] Rocks on rainbow, Ben's a nice fellow Your neck reflects your personality, and mine is yellow Boy, I hit the block, like I hate Legos They know they got thirty seconds, Jared Leto Before they see some halos, and I reload the ammo Boy is Golf Wang-o, and that's the squad I bang-o Until I'm fucking Ringo, now let's reload the aim-o [Part 8: Tyler, the Creator] Can't a nigga get some fucking chaos in hurr? I'm the truth and the dare And you can get your ass beat like a kick and a snare Schoolyboy's my niggy, you know I'm good in the 50s That boy's not that bad, enh, it's no biggy It's the G-O, the L-F, we go-go, no homo Letras de cancionesWe black out, and go hard like JoJo and fuckin' Diggy No ship in this series, and I just want Iggy, man We been Batmen since Batman had a sidekick Catch me in some vans like one of them soccer mamas And them bitches blue like that family went to the Dodgers, solve em (Oh no!) You can't bitch, I'm a problem You get fucked up like the thoughts inside of my noggin Going harder than the quidditch in Harry Potter All my shows got one black in it like Larry David And I'm that nigga Meaning I'm two niggas I'm schizo, Brent Lowe, my motherfucking bingo Pink and yellow on my neck remind you of my dickhole And I don't really fuck with you niggas, shout out to Jim Crow [Part 9: Tyler, the Creator] Don't get offended, love being darkskinned 23 with the crib and I don't got no tenants And I don't like sports, but the court got a tennis Is that diamonds on your neck? Stay the fuck out my bidness See, that's that cherry bomb, get my burr on That's McLaren, '91 out the Chevron Motors Flog Gnaw, Vans on, fuck your Jordans Went from throwing up to throwing carnivals (Yeah, nigga!) [Part 10: Tyler, the Creator] Boy, I'm a sicko, flacko nigga but kinda macho, boy I got some vatos and shout out to ScHooly, he kinda loco Pack a de la pistol, we splitting nachos Then for that cheese, boy, he was using some shells just like a taco So grab your goggles, nigga Taco Tuesday, you don't want none of that Have you heard of Fairfax, boy, we was running that Nigga took the store from us, yeah, fuck all of that (Man, he really took the store) [Part 11: ScHoolboy Q] Crack a cracker with a barrel Gang bang tattoos, this ain't a Louis rag Orange Paisley got me crip crazy Pants heavy, sag to the left With the belt strapped, no face mask, nigga, just toe tags Still the blunts getting passed, yeah Ain't worried bout no niggas, nigga Grieve over suckers, gunpowder on my knuckles Call the ambulance, I'm from the era of crip walking You was clown-dancing You wanna be me, huh? [Part 12: ScHoolboy Q] Cuz is wack when he raps, and what he rap, he ain't done Top Dawg, Wolf Gang, smell the cat on your tongue Pussy boy you fucked over, nigga, control your gums Teeth missing, moms' won't recognize your face when it's done My square homie's license, double life in my trunk Mind, power, body, and soul, we break handcuffs Got a strike on my record, double cups, and duck You want the life like us, you need to crip that coast You want to steer that wheel You want to smoke that kil' Well who am I? From Letras Mania