Текст на песента

[Verse 1]

I'm a fuckin' walkin' paradox, no I'm not

Threesomes with a fuckin' triceratops, Reptar

Rappin' as I'm mockin' deaf rock stars

Wearin' synthetic wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks

Bedrock, harder than a muthaf-ckin' Flintstone

Makin' crack rocks outta pissy n-gga fishbone

This n-gga Jasper tryna get grown

About five-seven of his bitches in my bedroom

Swallow the cinnamon, I'mma scribble this sin and shit

While Syd is tellin' me that she's been gettin' intimate with men

Syd, shut the fuck up

Here's the number to my therapist

Tell him all your problems, he's fuckin' awesome with listenin'

Wolf Haley, Golf Wang

[Verse 2]

Jesus called, he said he's sick of the disses

I told him to quit bitchin', this isn't a f-ckin' hotline

For a f-ckin' shrink, sheesh I already got mine

And he's not fuckin' workin', I think I'm wastin' my damn time

I'm clockin' three past six and goin' postal

This the revenge of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock nines

This ain't no V Tech shit or Columbine

But after bowlin', I went home to some damn Adventure Time

(What'd you do?) I slipped myself some pink Xanies

And danced around the house in all-over print panties

My mom's gone, that fuckin' broad will never understand me

I'm not gay, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin

(What you think of Hayley Williams?)

F-ck her, Wolf Haley robbin' 'em

I'll crash that f-ckin' airplane at that faggot n-gga B.o.B is in

And stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus

And won't stop until the cops come in

I'm an over achiever, so how 'bout I start a team of leaders

And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver

Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrievers

All I want, f-ck money, diamonds and bitches, don't need 'em

But where the fat ones at, I got somethin' to feed 'em

In some cookin' books the black kids never wanted to read 'em

Snap back, green ch-ch-chia f-ckin' leaves

It's been a couple months, and Tina still ain't permed her fuckin' weave, damn

Wolf Haley, Golf Wang

[Verse 3]

They say success is the best revenge

So I beat DeShay up with the stack of magazines I'm in

Oh, not again, another critic writing report

I'm stabbing any blogging faggot hipster with a Pitchfork

Still suicidal? I am

I'm Wolf, Tyler put this f**king knife in my hand

I'm Wolf, Ace going to put that f**king hole in my head

And I'm Wolf, that was me who shoved a c**k in your bitch

(What the fuck, man?) f**k the fame and all the hype, G

I just want to know if my father would ever like me

But I don't give a f**k so he's probably just like me

A mothafucking Goblin

(Fuckk everything, man) That's what my conscience said

Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead

Now the only guidance that I had is splattered on cement

Actions speak louder than words, let me try this s**t, dead.

Tyler, The Creator - Yonkers – текст

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