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lirik lagu lucky charms [wolf 2010] – tyler, the creator

[intro]
so many good reviews off of b*st*rd
i celebrated, getting m*st*rbated by my pastor
now he’s in a plastic, on the kitchen table
near a bowl of lucky charms and the newest thrasher

[verse 1]
when i say wolf gang, you say f*ck that
room full of wolves, inhalers and used blunt wraps
fingers in the middle of b*tches bodacious b*tt cracks
enough f*cking atheist rappers to get a nun slapped
um, that’s not a potato, give me my gun back
before i blast bigger than pimples on big pun’s back
black fat b*tches was washin’ on my dishes
and using my large stick on her lips like my cum’s chapped
i love jews but i hatе f*ggots
and b*tches who be nagging about me taking thе trash out
i got a f*ckin’ can of whoop ass, who wants to pack it
going ape sh*t in the newest bape straight jacket
with six d*cks of chap stick, sticking in my black lips
six sippie cups full of sick sh*t enhancements
wolf gang spit right
ain’t been this much f*ckin’ crack rock music since free way had flip side
so get low, lower than a ditch
i’m with some r*t*rded b*tch, hoping she know how to kiss low
they know, i’m the clinic’s aid and i’m sick
so they clap for me kinda like a herpe on the lip
with some tutor b*tch, tryna tickle wetback hooter this
b*tch acting i still did not know with it
until i put this c*ck on, the end of cl*toris
f*cking this game i used this sh*t as spit as lubricant
so who you with? (umm, f*ck)
i got this f*ckin’ gun, you better say yes you stupid b*tch
before you lose your wrist and rich make you do some d*ck
i’m f*cking crazy, well i guess i am if these shoes will fit
f*ck the key club, they wanna ban ’em
i got f*cking fans from compton to montana
to indiana, where deaf dwarfs still don’t understand ’em
because yelling at midgets is like me beefing with brandun (f*ck him)
stomp ’em out, with these crab ass nikes
make it look like some slob, scribbled all on his white tee
invite me, come on, you got a better chance to getting shake
my dad and earl’s motherf*ckin’ momma to like me (b*tch)
animals is farming you, patrick this is barnacles
said he gave ace a spongejob at the carnival
and spongebob got his head knocked from the p*ss that ace got
n*gga’s soft as baby c*ck and the cotton swab
[verse 2]
this that f*ck music, put your sh*t and f*ck to it
shouldn’t give one when your bumping in the trunk to it
grab a couple gats, stuff ’em in your backpack and then take ’em to school
for show and tell day screamin’ “f*ck students”
locate the b*tch that didn’t wanna give you kiss
then get her tits, then use your fists to add a couple lumps to it
shoot the faculty for taking hats, you stupid b*tts
skip the music teacher and the janitor you real cool with
continue this procedure until lunch is through with
go home out the back like a scared student
keep a low pro, until you on your block
then you just make it home in time for new news brief at 2ish
stuck at all this bible study, sh*t is not fun
me and wolf gang go jump nuns for hot fun
playing with the bell when shots heard, and cops come
but i’m still punchin’ this b*tch out, i’m not done
sittin’ in my room m*st*rbating
truthful, these lyrics are relating like my dad did
i make music for teenagers and bad ass kids
b*st*rd touched more boys than your local church did
k!lling these n*ggas off quick
don’t believe me then watch me empty out a full clip
trigger being pulled, n*ggers in a ditch
that wasn’t bullets, that was copies of b*st*rd you b*tch

- tyler the creator

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