Lyrics Sandwitches (Live) - Tyler, The Creator
Nigga
had
the
fucking
nerve
to
call
me
immature
Fuck
you
think
I
made
Odd
Future
for?
To
wear
fucking
suits
and
make
good
decisions?
Fuck
that
nigga,
Wolf
Gang
Who
the
fuck
invited
Mr.
I
Don't
Give
a
Fuck
Who
cries
about
his
daddy
and
a
blog
because
his
music
sucks?
(I
did!)
Well,
you
fucking
up,
and
truthfully
I
had
enough
And
fuck
rolling
papers,
I'm
a
rebel,
bitch,
I'm
ashing
blunts
(Sorry)
Full
of
shit,
like
I
ate
that
John
Come
on
kids,
fuck
that
class
and
hit
that
bong
Let's
buy
guns
and
kill
those
kids
with
dads
and
mom
With
nice
homes,
41k's,
and
nice
ass
lawns
Those
privileged
fucks
got
to
learn
that
we
ain't
taking
no
shit
Like
Ellen
Degeneres
clitoris
is
playing
with
dick
I'm
jealous
as
shit,
cause
I
ain't
got
no
home
meal
to
come
to
So,
if
you
do,
I'm
throwing
fingers
out
screaming
"fuck
you"
I
got
ten
of
these
Kennedy's
Not
Dom,
but
if
I
was
a
Dahm,
I
would
be
Jeffery
'preme
hat
the
color
of
a
leprechaun
with
leprosy
I'm
fucking
'bout
it,
'bout
it,
like
I'm
Master
P
in
'96
It's
fucking
immaculate,
the
way
your
daughter
smacking
dicks
Surprised
she
hasn't
taked
the
nasty
dick
inside
her
alley
you
The
Golf
Wang
hooligans,
is
fucking
up
the
school
again
And
showing
you
and
yours
that
breaking
rules
is
fucking
cool
again
I'm
going
harder
than
a
midget
jumping
over
me
Chronic
youth,
I'm
shoving
blunt
wraps
in
bitches
ovaries
Punches
to
the
stomach
where
that
bastard
kid
supposed
to
be
Fuck
a
mask,
I
want
that
ho
to
know
it's
me,
ugh
Wolf
Gang,
Wolf
Gang
It's
the
Wolf
Gang,
Wolf
Gang
It's
the
Wolf
Gang,
it's
the
Wolf
Gang
It's
the
Wolf
Gang,
Golf
Wang
It's
the
Wolf
Gang,
Wolf
Gang
Wolf
Gang,
triple
six
crew
It's
the
Wolf
Gang,
Golf
Wang
Wolf
Gang
kill
them
My
love
is
gone
for
you
mommy,
you
could
ride
in
hearses
I'm
sick
in
the
brain
dumb
bitch,
can
you
nurse
this?
You
told
me
life
would
never,
ever,
ever
get
this
perfect
Then
you
smoke
a
J
of
weed,
and
take
his
kids
to
the
churches
Uh,
fuck
church,
they
singing
and
the
shit
ain't
even
worth
it
In
the
choir,
whores
and
liars,
scumbags
and
the
dirt,
bitch
You
told
me
God
was
the
answer
When
I
ask
him
for
shit,
I
get
no
answer,
so
God
is
the
cancer
I'm
stuck
in
triangles,
looking
for
my
angel
Kill
me
with
a
chainsaw,
and
let
my
balls
dangle
Triple
six
is
my
number,
you
can
get
it
off
my
Tumblr
It
was
hilarious,
well
it
ain't
fucking
funny
now
I'll
push
this
fucking
pregnant
clown
into
a
hydrant
stuck
in
the
ground
I
step
through
the
stomach,
replace
the
baby
with
some
fucking
pounds
"My
baby
daddy
shoot
bricks,
the
nigga
also
shoot
rounds"
Cause
if
I
shoot
blanks,
oops,
thanks
I'm
right
back
in
it
dead
yummy
and
her
mildew
stank
Free
Earl,
that's
the
fucking
shit
And
if
you
disagree,
suck
a
couple
pimple-covered
dicks
Um,
Wolf
Gang,
that's
the
fucking
clique
Golf
Wang
kill
them
all
nigga,
triple
six
Fuck
2DopeBoyz,
all
them
niggas
bitches
We
don't
need
y'all,
The
Fader's
who
we
really
fucking
with,
bitch
And
we
don't
fucking
make
horrorcore,
you
fucking
idiots
Listen
deeper
than
the
music
before
you
put
it
in
a
box
1 Yonkers (Live)
2 Bastard (Live)
3 Blow (Live)
4 Fish (Live)
5 Domo (Live)
6 Ifhy (Live)
7 Cowboy (Live)
8 Jamba (Live)
9 Bimmer (Live)
10 Dick Banana Hat Interlude (Live)
11 We Got B*tches (Live)
12 Nightmare (Live)
13 Tron Cat (Live)
14 Sam (Is Dead) (Live)
15 French (Live)
16 B*tch Suck D*ck (Live)
17 Oldie (Live)
18 Tamale (Live)
19 Sandwitches (Live)
20 Burger (Live)
21 48 (Live)
22 Intro - Live
23 Interlude - Live
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