Burger

Tyler, The Creator

Album Goblin

Intro

Uh, Jesus, heheh

Verse 1

Nigga this is my cup
Drink the cyanide up
Dope as fuck
So I would really shoot a group of guys up
Deep thought I’m often lost in (Fuck it)
Put me next to awesome
Still can’t tell the difference
Just like Asians with their eyes shut
Butt fuck a couple Rots
In the Wendy’s parking lot
Barking at the sight of light from my bright sparkling
Cock-a-doodle
Eatin’ toaster strudel
At a nude beach in Rome
In a black Bape spaghetti strap made of Ramen noodles
My bitch is bad
Mixed with a thicky ass
Get my dicky rocky
This will end up in a sticky blast
Chrissy Brown, mask on my face, now I’m kicking ass
Life’s a bitch, fuck college, mommy, I am ditching class
I rather be happy than fucking forty
So fuck the teacher’s lecture I’m having Sydney record me
For the 2Dope– (They didn’t like it)
Oh well
Let’s get XXL to write us a fucking story

Hook: Hodgy

It’s sitting right in my lap, I see it
Scribbled across the lines, I read it
I’m the fucking poet who knows it
You know it, you bogus
Comprehend the language
You scared of war? I’m all anxious
We got the Angus if you want beef
Now that’s a burger for ya ass nigga
(Slice the onions)
Now that’s a burger for ya ass nigga
(Put on the cheese)
Now that’s a burger for ya ass nigga
(Where’s the barbeque sauce?)
Now have that burger, eat it fast nigga

Verse 2

Fucking aw, get you some
Obviously intended pun
Same time it took Jason Dill to get the stitching done
Custom made, one of one
Sold out Roxy performance
Ski mask color of a pickle just to perform Sandwitches
Started back in fucking London
Cracker children wanted something
They could bump and punch a bunch of fucking faces
(Stomp ’em out)
Moshing pits to breaking arms
Zombie Circus not a carn–
Evil wolves is on the farm
And were all evil harmed
Any sheep creep
Quiet tendered sleep
Make a peep
Fucking body will go missing in a week
Roam around the city with her titties like a fucking greek
God
Bastard was the shit, explains why it never leaked
I am coming of my age with my Memphis Bleek
Shooting from the sky, the only problem is the missing beak
(Once I have my wings and my motherfucking chain)
Oh, that’s the black talking in me
Let me down a couple cups of bleach

Hook: Hodgy

It’s sitting right in my lap, I see it
Scribbled across the lines, I read it
I’m the fucking poet who knows it
You know it, you bogus
Comprehend the language
You scared of war? I’m all anxious
We got the Angus if you want beef
Now that’s a burger for ya ass nigga
(Slice the onions)
Now that’s a burger for ya ass nigga
(Put on the cheese)
Now that’s a burger for ya ass nigga
(Where’s the barbeque sauce?)
Now have that burger, eat it fast nigga

Verse 3

Free Earl, that’s the fucking shit
And if you disagree lick a couple pimple covered clits
From some stripping lesbian dykes that fight niggas
That like to rap about those dykes that fight niggas
Alright
Enough with this shit, let’s talk business
Acquire more currency, disregard bitches
Go to Shake’s house and play Goblin in his kitchen
Then force him and his mom to listen to track six, then
If he doesn’t like it I’ll just slice his fucking dick and
Put it in the cabinet where the fucking cookies and chips is
Take a bunch of pictures, and
Post ’em on my Twitter, then
Go to Jimmy Fallon, like “Faggot, when we perfomin’?”
Then a bunch of Golf Wang niggas start stormin’
On the stage
In a rage that will scare Zack Rocha
Better get ya tanks before this wolf war’s over
History repeats itself, I’m a O.F. soldier

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