french! - tyler, the creator lyrics
“french!”
(feat. hodgy beats)
got all the black b-tches mad cause my main b-tch vanilla
she tryna get her groove back like stella, grab the umbrella
when it comes to your perception of my sh-t, i’m helen keller
when it comes to the perfection of my sh-t, i know you smell the
rectum, i’m like a chromosome i always x ’em
like wolverine steps on attackin’ a deadly weapon
i’m openin’ a church to sell c-ke and led zeppelin
and f-ck mary in her -ss.. ha-ha.. yo
i’m f-ckin’ goldilocks up in the forest
in the three bear house eatin’ their m-th-f-ckin’ porridge
i tell her it’s my house, give her a tour
in my bas-m-nt, and keep that b-tch locked up in my storage
rape her and record it, then edit it with more sh-t
octop-ssy special effect erect b-tches we bangin’
and please never disrespect my set with canons
hangin’ from our necks like it’s a m-th-f-ckin’ circus
you little n-gg-s better check my french
you gettin’ money better check my french
ahh, what time is it, huh? check my french
if you got my sh-t you better check my french
i make it move check my french
i speak english but check my french
your ho be on my p-n-s she check my french, b-tch
i guess i left my dignity up in the cupboard, cause every girl i’m diggin’
when i’m diggin’ in her p-ssy, i’m never usin’ a rubber
but f-ck it i guess i gotta stretch it out like it was flubber
and leave it drippin’ green and red like double cheese b-gg-rs
chewin’ on c-m like bubble gum from hubba
this b-tch knew d-ck like bubba knew shrimp, yeah
yo, i’m seventeen, already sniffin’ blow
i tell my friends it’s asthma every time i start to itch my throat
i got a new show for mtv, “pimp my boat”
because some b-tch said my s-m-n was dirty, that’s silly ho
the most that they can do is find me, i’m hiding
somewhere where chris stokes can’t find me
oh no, mister stokes, i don’t like misters, no
don’t tell r. kelly where my little sister go
you little n-gg-s better check my french
you gettin’ money better check my french
ahh, what time is it, huh? check my french
if you got my sh-t you better check my french
i make it move check my french
i speak english but check my french
your ho be on my p-n-s she check my french, b-tch
yo, you little n-gg-s better check my french
i got all stars and you can check my bench
left brain, super 3, creator ace
put expressions in their music and create the face
of the picture punchline figured out, ahh i get you
no you don’t n-gg- so why don’t you go figure
you seem confused anyway, pressured enough?
you the type of dude that choke when the pressure is up
the pressure is the pump and the pressure is us
b-tches havin’ eargasms and the pleasure is us
n-gg-s wanna be o.f. and write letters to us
compet-tion’s compet-tion, yo you better than us?
digest what i’m sayin’? i don’t think so
we sick sh-t, throw it up down in the sink, yo
the odd n-gg-s are beginnin’ to spill these pink hoes
we think sorta odd so we think so
crusin’ in my go kart at walmart sellin’ cupcakes
go ‘head admit it f-ggot, this sh-t is tighter then b-tt rape
that involve ballpark franks and silver duct tape
p-rnos and hormones and boxes of digiorno
you h-m-s is loco you’re probably drinkin’ cuervo
with some vatos with the door closed watchin’ zorro, you h-m-s.. o.f
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