That's hot and horny Don't say shit like that AWGE You gon' show me from the top? Listen Shout out Harlem, man Shout out A$AP Rocky, man AWGE in the building, man What's good? Is that potato salad? Yo, listen Niggas give me the cold shoulder, I can speak for myself So I keep a high waist and alligator the belt And got a belt with the holster, I ain't playing games But got some lil' niggas who would do it, so I pass the controller You get pressed and X'd out, triangle your nose Pause your life if you squares try to mess with my O's, whoa So cut the crap like shit barbers 'Cause we really with the beef like closeted gay fathers Nigga we get dollars, give 'em to Ben Baller Exchange for them chains that's all shiny with thick water I got back pains, neck heavy like whipped cream My whip clean, and they all white, I whip cream And cop boys, and I joy stick, I whip cream and cop cribs I got more space than big jeans, y'all sleeping on me Explain why they got shit dreams, I'm alien Got the laser gun with the big beam Married to the money, my bitch green No I don't sip lean, but ride around in rockets like Yao Ming Y'all niggas weak They thought I was goofy and all mouses Double C my luggage and fill them with Comme blouses Y'all cop kush, my nigga, I cop houses And fill em with some Leo DiCap's and Cole Sprouses, nigga Where we, Rocky, A$AP, GOLF boy, where we at, nigga in Paris F*ck clothes, I cop pieces Couple thots with me and them hoes is like divas Got my Vans on but they look like sneakers Flipped a couple packs, BasedGod in the speakers Bass all in the speakers In the field like baseball, play ball Face wall when polices come I don't rock Chanel, I rock channel And no this ain't a purse, it's a satchel Bless at you, nah I ain't sneeze But if niggas want steam or smoke, bet I match you Got a bullet with your name on the barrel If hollows don't clip, you get nip like it's catfood That dude, when I die they gotta make a statue Bad attitude this ain't a purse it's a satchel Go to any nigga with money up in my bracket Then I think about the state of rapping All the freshmans in the classes All the super seniors mumblin' and ramblin' Mumblin' and rappin' Mumble rapping? I find it hard to find actual talent I find it hard to find a actual challenge I'm like Shabazz Palace's last acid hit, elaborate Rap Lab's labyrinth Word to Kodak's Black's Lazaruth Calldrops on the album skits (ayo) I'm the channel that you watch, I'm the ammo in the Glock Weird nigga, full suit with the sandals and the socks, stop And based on my neck, boy You would think I hate glass homes way I'm handling the rocks Who cast the first stone? Bitch it's me, f*ck you thought? Real grunge nigga, I ain't got a flannel as the top And I'm picking up guitar, strum nigga Bum niggas wish they could make a Garden Shed But they sleeping on me, man, like their arm is dead I'm a wild nigga boy, and you farmer bred born You ain't animal, you are corn (haha, yeah) K shiz, what up, nigga? I have nothing cool to do
Written by: Craig Xavier Brockman, Lee Hatim, Melissa A. Elliott, Monica Brown, Rakim Mayers, Tyler Gregory Okonma
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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"Potato Salad Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2020. Web. 26 Oct. 2020. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/1455502/Tyler%2C+The+Creator>.