paroles de chanson SMUCKERS - lil wayne , Kanye West , Tyler, The Creator

For your boy
I'm watchin' Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor
I'm tryna cop the new McLaren with the vertical doors, nigga
Money, money, money, money, money ain't the motive
What's your name again? Nobody knows it
Don't speak to me nigga, you not important
I'm focused, (2, 3, 4) bring in the horns
They say I'm nutty, I'm picnic basket, I'm short of a sandwich
A peanut butter, Boyce Watkin's a faggot
Please come and get me
Said I suck him at your neck, like a hickey, boy I'm sicky
Like a HIV victim, man nobody fuckin' with me
I got banned from New Zealand, Whitey called me a demon
And a terrorist, God dammit, I couldn't believe it
Ban a kid from a country, I never fall, never timber
But you fucked up as a parent, your child idol's a nigger
I clearly don't give a fuck, so you could run that shit back
And fuck your loud pack, and fuck your Snapchat
Cherry Bomb, the greatest fuckin' album since the days of sound
And that shit gon pop just like that nigga that was never 'round
Damn, 'bout to drop, gas 'em up, thick exhaust
Young T, came quick, hard to beat, dick is soft
We ain't lyin', we the truth, call him Simba, beats his hooves
Tyler the Creator sweatin' Jesus juice
Put that fuckin' cow on my level cause I'm raisin' the stakes
Mom I made you a promise, it's no more section 8
When we ate its the steaks, now our section is great
Cause that's the level I'm at, my niggas pass em a plate
'Ye!
Why, oh why, why?
Why don't they like me?
Cause Nike gave lot of niggas checks
But I'm the only nigga to ever check Nike
Richer than white people with black kids
Scarier than black people with ideas
Nobody can tell me where I'm headin
But I feel like Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen at my weddin
They say I'm crazy but that's the best thing goin for me
You can't lynch Marshawn if Tom Brady throwin' to me
I made a million mistakes, but I'm successful in spite of 'em
I believe you like a fat trainer takin' a bite or somethin'
I wanna turn the tanks to playgrounds
I dream't of 2Pac, he asked me "are you still down?"
"Yeah my nigga", it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on
I know they told their white daughters don't bring home Jerome
I am the free nigga archetype
I am the light and the beacon, you can ask the deacon
It's funny when you get extra money
Every joke you tell just be extra funny
I mean you can even dress extra bummy
Cocaine bathroom break, nose extra runny
And I gave you all I got, you still want extra from me
Oxford want a full blown lecture from me
And the Lexus pull up, err like hop, I hopped out, like wassup?
Err-err-err, step back, hold up, my nigga you suck, hold up
I studied the proportions
Emotions runnin' at an Autobahn speed level
Had a drink with fear, and I was textin' God
He said "I gave you a big dick so go extra hard"
For your boy
I'm tryna pop the new McLaren with the vertical doors
I'm watchin' Freaks and Geeks, got a trampoline in my room
Damn
(Two, three, four) Hold your fuckin' horses
Niggas really fuckin' thought that T lost it
Like I bet it at an auction been exhausted
I been workin' while y'all cylinders smoke like broken exhaust tips
Fuckin' losers
Hold your fuckin' ponies, my homie
I whip your donkey by my lonely, I eat pussy like Shoney's
Yeah, it's Tunechi, homie, master of ceremonies
I knock 'em down, domino effect, no pepperoni
I swear
This them golf boys, like them hot boys
For the 99 and 2000, but its the two thou'
And the one four and the one five, yo what up Wayne?
(What up Slime, nigga go hard)
Yeah, I'mma go hard like before came
Got too much drive, need like ten lanes
Life is a broad and she give brain
That's that road head, thats a dream car
Got a full tank of that same year I was born
That's that one nine nine one, 'nother nigga like I
You won't find one, cuz nigga I'm a god, a divine one, Tune
My trigger finger wise but my nine dumb
Middle finger blind so its fuck A-N-Y one
Fuck, skate, and die son, a hundred ways to die son
I'm starin' at a tramp on lean, make my eye jump
Use Adderall like alarm clocks, wake my high up
Steaks are high; well done, and prime cut, eat up
I stick my rollie in her mouth, let the time come
She got hair like Shanaynay, and eyes like Wanda
Oh my goodness
Wayne them bitches ugly
These niggas colder than Tommy buddy
'Ye we hittin' models like Tony Parker be hittin' bottles
Bitch I'm goin' harder than yellow cabby stoppin' for Lionel
(Black ass nigga)
They be duckin' us niggas, shout out to Donald Sterling
Boy lets get a scrimmage, I'll cut some niggas
I'll bring the Clippers
And a couple owners, that's kinda German
You bring the nooses, and a couple trees
Where the money grow, and get bodies burning
Cause I'm tryna hang like I'm Mr. Cooper or Jews in Berlin
Or some niggas from Alabama, Birmingham
I need musics all over the street like Erick Sermon
Was, fuck us, maybe we should team up
Anti Golf boys, cuz I don't fuck with me either
I'm a liar, I'm a faggot
Son you need Jesus
But I heard he left sunset, to go on tour with Yeezus, well
I'm prayin' for the new Yeezys
And you pussies prayin' that we squash the beef like zucchinis
I know, it ain't gain, nor fame, nor tame
Or lame, nor strange
Nah faggot it's Golf Wang