| Artist/Band: 
Tyler The Creator Lyrics for Song: Yonkers
 Lyrics for Album: Goblin [2011]
 
 
 
 13147>[Verse 1]
 
 I'm a f-ckin' walkin' paradox, no I'm not
 
 Threesomes with a fuckin' triceratops, Reptar
 
 Rappin' as I'm mockin' deaf rock stars
 
 Wearin' synthetic wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks
 
 Bedrock, harder than a muthaf-ckin' Flintstone
 
 Makin' crack rocks outta pissy n-gga fishbone
 
 This n-gga Jasper tryna get grown
 
 About five-seven of his bitches in my bedroom
 
 Swallow the cinnamon, I'mma scribble this sin and shit
 
 While Syd is tellin' me that she's been gettin' intimate with men
 
 Syd, shut the fuck up
 
 Here's the number to my therapist
 
 Tell him all your problems, he's f-ckin' awesome with listenin'
 
 
 
 Wolf Haley, Golf Wang
 
 
 
 [Verse 2]
 
 Jesus called, he said he's sick of the disses
 
 I told him to quit bitchin', this isn't a f-ckin' hotline
 
 For a f-ckin' shrink, sheesh I already got mine
 
 And he's not f-ckin' workin', I think I'm wastin' my damn time
 
 I'm clockin' three past six and goin' postal
 
 This the revenge of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock nines
 
 This ain't no V Tech shit or Columbine
 
 But after bowlin', I went home to some damn Adventure Time
 
 (What'd you do?) I slipped myself some pink Xanies
 
 And danced around the house in all-over print panties
 
 My mom's gone, that fuckin' broad will never understand me
 
 I'm not gay, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin
 
 (What you think of Hayley Williams?)
 
 F-ck her, Wolf Haley robbin' 'em
 
 I'll crash that f-ckin' airplane at that faggot n-gga B.o.B is in
 
 And stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus
 
 And won't stop until the cops come in
 
 I'm an over achiever, so how 'bout I start a team of leaders
 
 And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver
 
 Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrievers
 
 All I want, f-ck money, diamonds and bitches, don't need 'em
 
 But where the fat ones at, I got somethin' to feed 'em
 
 In some cookin' books the black kids never wanted to read 'em
 
 Snap back, green ch-ch-chia f-ckin' leaves
 
 It's been a couple months,
 
 and Tina still ain't permed her fuckin' weave, damn
 
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