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Tyler, the Creator
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Steak Sauce
Rollin' in a golden Tacoma, the shit's stolen
If that b*tch tell on me, I'ma do a f*ckin' drive-by in her colon
With my meat, gotta keep it obsolete
Like Chris Brown when Rihanna got her f*ckin' ass beat
F*ck Jeeves ask me for advice, if I'm not reading advice
I'm squatting down, picking cracker b*tches scalp for some lice
Everything that I write is dope because the pipe
And nope you can't have a hit unless you gimme the light
We be burnin' dirty rocks with a light switch
B*tch n*gga, you about as hard as a dikes clit
I'm goin' as hard as Bishop Eddie Longs John
After I bought a Sidekick and sent that fag some nice pics
They say I try too goddamn hard
No shit, I want a Grammy you damn retard
You can't be great when you settle for flea bargain
Unless you're a thrift hipster b*tch in a leotard
Painless, Hodgy lost his motherf*cking mind because the brain left
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Wolf Gang got the ink on me now it's banged out
Box Logo hoodie, still haven't got the stains out
Congress, ah yes, I'm f*ckin' with the best blondes
Um yes, I am now beating off to mom sex
Raquel is wrestling a prom dress
While me and Ray Charles have a f*cking staring contest
To all the step dads in here
Triple six kids got you motherf*ck scared
Could be worse, n*gga that's absurd
N*gga I am at Pharrell's tryna butt f*ck nerds
This just in, Tyler the Creator and Justin Bieber
Was just in the room flippin' Selena Gomez
Go 'head, give some, pucker up
I'll f*ck her up until the kids come in, umm
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