Okay, welcome to my 12 bar The beat, wears it like a kevlar As I smoke my tree, medlar, South African Coughing 'til there's pains in my fucking abdomen I spit negative just like a halogen My breeze more of a fucking masculine The rascals win, killing them all with a javelin Snakes, I'm just rattling, suit taylor never taddling You niggas a bunch of squares, Madison As far as real niggas, bitch nigga my battle's sick On top of being talented, bitch I'm fucking passionate I'm a golden curse, call me treacherous, treasure chest Better yet, I'll build on to the beat like Tetris Remember me, forgetfulness, I am your correctionist I stitched odd and future together like a leather vest You fucking sweater neck, feather peck, Rosetta checks I put together decks and push for beef, If head for less I'm headed out to Sydney Australia with Tim Donnelly He gets caught up at security, the TSA don't follow me Tea parties are the shit, forty mags by the scones I'm fighting for gun rights to shoot a nigga in his dome Click your fucking heels, there's no place like home Cock back and blast off written on the tombstone, ain't that a bitch Let's see, what's wrong with me might be my fucking tourett see I need a vacation cause all this shit got me stressing So after the showers with Sandusky, me and Sean Kingston went and rented a couple jet skis Lionel rolled the blunts up, so meanwhile me and Lucas getting fucked up You can smell us coming like a faggot when he hicks up Listening to Common's last album to get pumped up So finally asked [scratch] when I can get my dick sucked You know Casey Anthony, was handling Dropping her kids off so she could come out and dance with me Wine in the pantry, wrestling on my trampoline Learned some new chords while you uncreative were sampling I'm wolf, I spit flow-y partly As retarded as the sound of deaf people arguing You hold the future of the kid you daughter's gargling Me, I have the odd future motherfucking sargeaning (Tyler calm the f*ck down) No, I'm the f*ck now My poppa didn't give one, that's why I'm like this now I'm still down to cut throat And if another fan asks for a photo while I'm snacking on my pizza lunchable I'm 'a fucking snap like Berman when he acts right Then have a mental breakdown and proceed to use a crack pipe OF will be done for, niggas will be dumb poor Don't believe me, OK be right back, I'm headed to the gun store M-16's and them 16's came out of nowhere like your kid's wet dream What you mean old news, oh you Will you need us to fucking show you that we're harder than finding a fucking snickers bar in whole foods In a black hoodie, nose bruised and a gold tooth Hoping the security guard doesn't hold you in custody But luckily had a couple of guns with me Like gay step mom, none of you motherfuckers can f*ck with me
Written by: GERARD LONG, TYLER OKONMA, VYRON TURNER
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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"P Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 16 Aug. 2022. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/26020830/Tyler%2C+the+Creator/P>.