Lyrics:
education
And I’m sure this will end up online
So I don’t want to diss anyone at
The American Academy, I’m sure it’s equal to
The Art Institute of Chicago by
Chyeah, Renegades is back, Em the beat is sick
It's Young, Freeway, Eight miles
Let's go
Eight miles and runnin', got my seventh album droppin'
the sport
Coats of the season
And surrounded by his whole Odd Future crew
The ascendant singer opens up to
Amy Wallace about his crazy
Year including the bomb
on an adventure through the making of
The album: Cherry Bomb take a seat
And relax
Yo, what up, it's Tyler
And I'm about to show y'all
What really went down when
I
ride on the cops (cops)
I was young, black, and ashy, '42 khakis
Red rag in my pocket, throwin' up blood to any car that ever pass me
Gangbang
guessed it! God done over by customs, the pair of us, didn't we? So there we
are standing there, "Hello hello hello! What you been up to, you naughty boys?"
and the boys asked the local
radio station, or asked the ballroom dancers to come up and feature in the video. They did. Puuh, pretty
good isn't it? By the way,
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
friends down
Until ya family up"
If I bring the fish by they cookin'
It's a fish fry
My friends make the fish fly but
They ain't playin' Candy Crush
I don't
with a pride
City boy, fuck it up fuck it up fuck it up
Always on the roam, this city's my home
If I die, you can write the album title on my stone
Never
even keep up, you chase your own tail
Catch you at the motel 6, gettin' your dick sucked by a grown male
With your toe nail up his ass like oh well, you
get in another car accident
This time with your baby mother and
Kid and instead of dying
You end up being the only
One of them that lives what?
Yeah
From yo' car to a crap game, no one rolls wit' you
One of Mini-Me's shoes got more sole than you
So by the time you figure out why your record ain't
kitted (say what?)
Stand by your man, yes that's what they all claim
You don't have a car? Then you're fucked up in the game
They'll walk by ya,
know what
I'ma put the beat up 'cause you did sign yesterday
I'ma put you on before we even get the album started
It better be fire I mean what's
the bar, leave the car
And pass out like a fetus in a jar with my feet up to the stars
And dream about that light that leads up to the Lord
I have
you're in your ride pumping it up
(Cars ride by with the boomin' systems)
Just remember
(Cars ride by)
It's Cool
(Cars ride by with the boomin'
you're in your ride pumping it up
(Cars ride by with the boomin' systems)
Just remember
(Cars ride by)
It's Cool
(Cars ride by with the boomin'
Like I said before got my own garage
For 100 plus cars and every spot it filled up
And you ask how it do that can you show me the way
Just listen right
album by Chrome, the new artist Chrome
C-H-R-O-M-E, go get it, it's jammin' like a fool (yeah, yeah)
"Straight To The Pros," Chrome, October, 2005 (new
my favorite album
A plate of salmon, the Cayman Islands, a stripper dancer
If I don't get the car first, I'll have a temper tantrum
I'm
Read the bottom, it's signed by The Joker
Lorena said I never can leave her
She'll sever my wiener I ever deceive her
F- that sh-, bi-
Give up my d-
Sometimes I listen and revisit them old albums
Often as I can and skim through all them bitches
To make sure I keep up with my competition (haha)
Hogger
the money
He acted real funny
He hocked up a rock and
It TOTALLED my car!
Oh, do you
Know any trucks
Might be bound for THE VALLEY?
I don't wanna
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