[Hook: Larry King, Tyler the Creator]

Where do you see yourself when you're forty?

Uhh rich as f-

[Intro: ARCHITECT.]

Yo I'm not too sure about this dude. I mean what kind of fucking name is bikergangskullboy? Dude this guy has issues, fuck me

[Verse 1]

Mental asylum

Fucked in the head from the drugs they supply him

Thinking he’s god or an angel of Zion

Adam and Eve are not splitting the atom

Look at his lies

Look at his eyes

Look at his core now look at his diet

Look at his goals and the colours of violet

Look at this crook he’s a criminal snitch

Chasing his greed and then flexing his rich

Aiming for stars riding riches to rags

Cynical tropes got him smoking some fags

Glance at the scars but don’t ever dare ask

Get in his way and it’s ’oops my bad’

Master his flaws just to cover the sketch

Tangle the facts and then spit them all back

How many deaths

How many backs

How many guns and how many tags

Gunning his brains till the masses are bumping his SAD!

[Hook 2]

Skullboy

A menace, a demon I hope that he rot

Thinking ‘bout death if you like it or not

He is pathetic and nothing compared to a god

I am the greatest

Globally known even though I am hated

Burning my records the ashes are proof that I made it

Debated and stated the rooms that I raided

The feelings I faked it

These terrible chemicals feeling so jaded

Consider my past and the day I was dated

Profiling my shots and the sentence I'm facing

Convinced of my peace and the people that framed it

A crook and a curse one of things that they named it

I followed a system and look at my payment

My actions to honour I wished that I saved it

My criminal past that I hope to regain it

Fuck!

[Verse 2]

They labelling me a criminal snitch

When have you seen a crook comically rich

Socially honest they think its a trick

Mentally wack you can suck on my dick

Look into the past let’s refute all that you dissed

Fucked in the head?

I don’t think it's the drugs

Pulling my records you’re getting a mug

Shot in the head I ain’t pulling the trigger

Balance the scales?

They don’t taper for niggers or people of sinners

You calling me god, I do think I am winner

I finish my dinner they’re locking the bars

I am dazed in the head, all I'm peeping are stars

The drugs are a lie I’m an earthling of mars

Achilles my eye, my psychosis was dire

Hephaestus my soul, I am furnished with fire

Convicted of fraud, gotta hate all these wires

The law is for sale, I’m a merchant or buyer

All these niggas regale as I pull them from fear

I am sick of these laws, I have had it to here

What’s a bump of cocaine for a shaky ass year

I have killed many-

He’s a hater of (censor)

A psycho in tears, a monger of fear

Who failed to adhere, so the ‘sylum appeared