Сайт фанатов группы «КуБа»

[Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator]
They say I’ve calmed down since the last album
Well, lick my dick, how does that sound? (Umm)
Smell my gooch, you could kiss my buns
And I don’t give a shit, bend my rectum
Somebody said bands make her dance
You think you’re getting cash, no bitch, you’re dumb
The only thing that you’re gonna get is this dick
Wait turn this up, bitch, this my jam, (Where the drums at?)
Here, take a goddamn picture
And tell Spike Lee he’s a goddamn niggaare
And while you’re at it, pass the lotion
In fact, get an Xbox Live, that fun
Before I come, I’m calling your sister
When she comes over, I take picture
Instantly put it on Instagram and suplex her off a building [?]

[Hook: Tallulah and Tyler, the Creator]
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Why y’all so salty,
Hot tamale is on,
A can of beans, bitch, I’m on,
Your boy is bad to the bone

[Verse 2: Tyler, the Creator]
Bring back the horns that was played in the beginning,
And tell Tony Parker that I found his vision,
And if he’s tripping off my sneak dissing
Then he has to deal with me and my minions
Tryna get a bimmer, E46
Have you heard 48, motherfucka I’m great
Golf Wang prints always cover the sleeves
From cuts from the beach, to these puff in the trees, please
Fuck I look like? Got a new bike tire
Never popped like the pussy on a bitch dyke
Think I give a fuck, I do, I go balls
And I bust in her jaw like (fuck that disease!)
My urethra, hole that I pee from
Bigger than an obese snack on Aretha
Now, turn that snare down
I’m back like I’m Rosa Parks fare on the same damn bus
Like “You’re going to jail now! ”


[Verse 3: Tyler, the Creator]
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?
If a woodchuck could ever give a fuck?
Bitch Suck dick, Motherfuck you and your opinions, (Can you kick it?)
Yes I can sir, here the lump is
Sicker than the last bar bold-er
I’m a co fuck Michael bitch I’m badder than my B. O.
Find me and Lance tryna dance during chemo
Before they repossess our strong arm bands and tuxedos

[Hook 2: Tallulah and Tyler, the Creator]
Yeah Buddy, this is my jam, Na Na Na Na Na Na Na!
Golf Wang, Golf Wang, Go fuck You, Na Na Na Na Na Na!
Why y’all so salty,
Hot tamale is on,
A can of beans, bitch, I’m on,
Your boy is bad to the bone

[Verse 4: Tyler, the Creator]
How many fags can a lightbulb screw?
Well if I has a dick, maybe two and six, and tell the nra I’m
About to lose my shit, shoot through Wayne Lapierre’s hair with a crucifix
How many ladies in the house?
How many ladies in the house without a rich nigga, huh?
A little Jergins in my palm for the jerkin’
Hope my Mom don’t catch me, tryna set mood
Little Redtube, fuck lotion, I don’t need lube, dryfit suits me
Up and down, friction with the sound, shit’s kind of disgusting
Fap time and before I flatline, Clancy chimes in my room and catch me
This shit’s so damn embarrassing like…

(Yeah… You feel alright?)

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
God, goodness gracious
I can’t wait to see the look on y’all niggas faces
That boy T nuts, surprised his thoughts isn’t chafing
Fuck them crackers up at Mountain Dew them niggas is racist
Cabbage was made, critic faggots was shook
So I told ’em that I’ll exchange the word “faggot” with “book”
And all them “books” is pissed off and had their page in a bunch
Fuckin’ attitude switched just like a “book” when it struts
But, I’m a fraud I pray to God when the six triple “book” bashin’
While me and my favorite author’s lips tickle
Peter Parker pick a pack of peppers when the plot thickens
Tyler, The Creator fuckin’ kill you with a popsicle
Cold blooded so we rock mittens so they won’t find him
Not kiddin’ keep the Tommy on me bitch, I’m Ms. Pickles
Said I seem off, last time that team talked
Sick of making niggas cabbage so I took the ‘preme off
Should’ve bought some stock in it
(Yo it’s fucked up, I get it, put a sock in it)
Not Golf when the little homies don’t, wait,let’s weigh my options
I bought me a mansion, and bought some attention
Ain’t give none to Hopsin,and dear Boyce Watkins
Why you mad? It’s the slave in me
It’s facts boy I’m back like Rosa Parks least favorite seat
Videos, stage dives, popups, they watching T’
While y’all niggas watchin’ the throne, the throne be watching me

[Interlude: Shane Powers]
If you fuck this up
There are so many fuckin’ kids right now, listenin’ to this guy
Get those wings flapping motherfucker!
Cause this kid’s ready to fucking fly

[Break: Tyler, The Creator]
Eenie, meenie, miney, mo, nigga nigga on the wall
Rap bars, jail bars, die or shoot a basketball
Tyler, the dark skin, arrested in Austin
Cops know who I was cause their kid said the show was Awesome

[Interlude: Shane Powers]
Tyler, Tyler, I swear to, I swear to fuck! If you fucking…
Do NOT fuck this up!
You have the whole world in your fucking hands

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
How many leaders in the house?
Well can somebody bring the mirrors out? I’m getting lonely
Likes and apologies and snaps make it obvious
That everybody on this fucking planet lackin’ confidence
How many leaders in the house? (Do not fuck this up!)
Well can somebody bring the camera out so I can film me
T a great director nigga’s vision must be blurry
Boy I get them epic shots like jaywalkin’ in Missouri
Wait… How many leaders in the house?
Well can’t somebody bring my album out so I can hear one
Pour me a drink, shit I don’t know what to think
Cause all these niggas leaning like they Forest Whitaker’s blink
Wait… How many leaders in the house?
See why nobody got they hands up, see that’s the issue


[Verse 1]
Find your wings (s’possed to fly)
Find your wings (find your wings)
Hey you, whatcha doin’ and why you runnin’?
Supposed to fly and take control cause you’re the pilot
You can’t swim, you’re gonna drown, the sharks are comin’
The sky’s your home, there’s no limit, you know you gotta
Find your wings (fly)
Find your wings (find your wings)

My lil nigga, the world is yours, birdy

[Verse 2: Kali Uchis]
We can go down to the rainbows
Don’t let your high keep your brain low
You’re a bird
You’re supposed to fly away
The way you stand there
Don’t let your wings go to waste (go to waste)
The sky is your home, be free
Be free


The day that I met you girl
I knew that it was something special
But I couldn’t put my finger on it (Fuck I can’t sing whatever look)
We met through mutual friends and this is where the story and confusion begin
Cause I was in a problem but I had to pretend that I wasn’t

There go the police man knocking at my door
Do I leave out the back and grab my wallet and coat
Or do I answer real confused like “I don’t know”
Now me and she held hands and we danced, nothing more
She kissed my hand a couple times, FaceTime when we’re bored
There’s nobody at the door, man I’m so paranoid

Girl you’re perfect, but you’re too fucking young for me
And when temptation calls, I never pick up
And girl, you stole my heart but you’re too fucking young
This is more than a crush, I just might be in love

[Verse 1]
A six year difference
Is a ten year sentence
And with the pigment on my skin, I don’t want to be another statistic
You bring me joy, joy, joy, joy
And you fill a void that was once missing
And I can say I’m in love



[Verse 2]
When you’re 35, I’ll be 41
And when I’m 27, you’ll be 21
Yo, this is dumb
And when that time comes for that 1-8, I’ll probably run
Cause I’m fucking terrified, yo this is dumb
You should find someone else
I’m not the one for you, shit, I’m still growing up by myself
And mentally you’re older than me and that shit doesn’t help
Cause if they see you with T, they’ll think T needs some help
So when you mention “hang,” I’m thinking about a tree and a belt
And I don’t want no relation, shit no relation
Ship when my dick is longer than my intentions-
Span, it’s gonna suck your shit
It’s that kitchen fan
It splattered on me like my dick in my hand
What? I’m still fucking off, not good at ducking off
Because I found a goose that I like, but I’m still running off
She gon’ want a nest, that’s why I cannot get fucking caught
That’s a scary word, you could save that shit for the birds
But I found my wings, fuck
(But you’re too fucking young)
I really like you
(And when temptation calls, I never pick up
And girl, you stole my heart but you’re too fucking young)
Funny thing about this is
By the time you hear this, I’ll be in the clear
It’s T and Uncle Charlie
(But you’re too young, but you’re too young, but you’re too young)

Part 2 – PERFECT

[Verse 1: Kali Uchis]
Boy I know that we could be more than just friends
But you’re scared
Boy I know
We could be more than just friends
But you’re scared
I know
I know that there could be
Somethin’ for you and me
What’s your philosophy?
You’re scared, scared
And I exit and wait a while
(Just say the word)
See the answers are there
(But I’m just too gone to see)
You and I are cut from different fiber
(I wonder why, I wonder why girl)
Don’t be too material to see
(But I’m just too gone to see)
This world is just a struggle just to be
Fuck em all baby it’s just you and me

But you’re too fuckin’ young
And girl I know that you’re the one for me
Cause you’re too fuckin young
And girl I know that you’re the one for me
And it hurts
It fuckin hurts
Cause you’re too fuckin young
And girl I know that you’re the one
That you’re the one
For me
Cause you’re too fuckin young
And girl I know that you’re the one for me
(I rock)
(I rock)
(I rock)

For your boy
I’m watchin’ Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor
I’m tryna pop the McLaren with the vertical doors nigga

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
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
They say I’m nutty, picnic basket
Not 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 demon
And a terrorist, God dammit I couldn’t believe it
Ban a kid from the 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, say 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

[Break: Kanye West]
Why, why, why?
Why don’t they like me?
Cause Nike gave lot of niggas checks
But I’m the only nigga ever to check Nike

[Verse 2: Kanye West]
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 wedding
They say I’m crazy but that’s the best thing going for me
You can’t Lynch Marshawn, and 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”, Its on, its on, its on, its 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, skrrtt like hop, I’d hopped out, wassup
Erg erg erg, step back, hold up, my leg’ll be stuck
I studied the proportions, emotions runnin’ out of 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”

[Hook 2]
For your boy
I’m tryna pop the McLaren with the vertical doors
I’m watchin’ Freaks and Geeks got a trampoline in my room

Two, Three, Four
Hold your fuckin’ horses
Niggas really fuckin’ thought that T lost it
Like I’m better at an auction been exhausted
I been workin’ while y’all cylinders smoke like broken exhaust tips
Fuckin’ losers

[Lil Wayne]
Hold your fuckin’ ponies my homie
I whip your donkey by my lonely I eat pussy like Shoney’s
That’s Tunechi, homie master of ceremonies
I knock ’em down, domino effect, no pepperoni
I swear

[Verse 3: Tyler the Creator and Lil Wayne]
This them golf boys, like them hot boys
For the nine, 9 and 2,000, but its the 2,000
When the one four and the one five, yo what up Wayne
(What up Slime, nigga go hard)
Yeah, I’mma go hard like before Cain
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 four ten, of that same year I was born
That’s that one nine nine one, ‘nother nigga like I
You gon’ find one, cuz nigga I’m a god, a divine one, Tune

[Verse 4: Lil Wayne]
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 Wonda
Oh my goodness

[Verse 5: Tyler, the Creator]
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
Cuz I’m tryna hang like I’m Mr. Cooper or Jews in Berlin
Or some niggas from Alabama, Birmingham
I need [music] 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’mma liar, I’mma faggot

[Verse 6: Lil Wayne]
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 playin’ at the squash the beef like Zucchinis
I know, it ain’t gain, nor fame, nor tame
Or lame, nor strange

Nah faggot its Golf Wang