Look

By MellowHigh

Released on October 2, 2013

58K Views

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[Intro: Tyler, The Creator]

It's the fucking– Aaah!

Yell, I came too hard on it

I came way too hard on that

I'ma be scaring kids and shit

Lemme, lemme tone that down, I’m sorry


[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]

It's the fucking general, Vans, cut shorts

Neck covered in colored emeralds, the yellow by the blue

Look like I pissed inside your swimming pool, I'm Mr. Made-A-Bundle

Fuck being a rapper and lyrical, here's a ticket to carnival

Barnacles! Now, I gotta brag

Bimmer drive right bi you niggas like I was kinda fag

With a paint job that's flatter than Miley Cyrus' ass

Ludicrous niggas is hoping that rapper Tyler crash

I see a victim, call the fucking doctors

I'm starting to see symptoms, faggot getting sick again

Fucker get a syringe and a prayer from all your friends

That are actors that do not have to pretend with me if they see blood

Cuz, red and blue like what the fuck's popping?

I'm the blackface with white America, a noose in my pocket

Everyone's dumb or either dead, so you do not have an option

So I'm sorry, Martian, and activist I'm 'bout to tie knots with

And ain't no one gon' stop shit, I'd rather find my pops

Locking lips with a hot locksmith, find out I was adopted

By chimps and a hippopotamus, Tyler's a fucking animal

When he spit, he goes ape shit, so it technically makes sense


[Interlude: Hodgy]

Nigga, H


[Verse 2: Hodgy]

Nobody ever told me that I spill more than I drink

I didn’t know that, I didn’t know that I didn’t know

Al-Anon meetings meeting and greeting boy fickle

Cucumber turn pickle, nigga, nickel by my cellular sickle

Exchange phrases from heroin addicts pistol arms

Niggas go to the drug dealer like Bristol farm, when it get it, it's gone

Seated next to Chunky's hands fidget marmoset monkeys

This ain’t where I’m supposed to be at, how am I supposed to react

When somebody here test my nervous, I’m clean and sober

And still got a lot on my mind that I’m getting over only getting older

Snow and slush is colder, love don’t get you on the bus

Free rides are in the Rover where teardrops wet on my shoulder

Started hitting bars whiskey style shit

You know a young nigga always finding new outlets

Mentally I’m just crowded, but shit I guess it’s time to change my outfit


[Verse 3: Domo Genesis]

Live from the gutter, young stunner trumps what you niggas blundered

I uppercut 'em by the bundle, nigga take a number

I'm bout my butter, never let them suckers take me under

Cold like I hate the summer? You ungrateful son of a bitch

I gave less a fuck and I struck it rich, suck my dick

Tell the world that I’m coming, don’t fucking spit

Bump your lips, guess you really ain’t sure who you fucking with

You won’t find me on no office shit I’m semi-auto off this shit

My whole approach is arsonic no party be cautious

With my partners on some raunchy shit, you better use your conscience quick

I swear my whole demeanor all fucked up

Shitting everywhere like I had a meal off the lunch truck

Dumb fuck come one one it and get your mug bucked

Love what? No love for these hoes we only love lust

Inhale that marijuana until my lungs bust

Still out for blood when the suns up


[Verse 4: Earl Sweatshirt]

Fuck what you been talking 'bout, nigga, got a toddler reputation

Just from chalking out niggas and bagging 'em up

Dickies baggy, sagging off my ass, abandoned the cuffs

And Wang syndicates the color of the ambulance trucks

Blunt got a nigga feeling like I'm standing on my head

Wolf pack back up out the shed, foaming at the mouth

Got these bitches lip-locking, britches soggy on the couch

Talking shit, bringing profit in and bodies in to count

I told myself just to walk and let the rumours run

Blue golf overalls, jump when them Goombas come

This the fucking sound of chickens coming home and roosting up

The rudest one, make a nigga take a nigga jewels and run

Hand full of cash, other hand full of homes to feed

Who exactly am I supposed to please?

And nigga, who the fuck you supposed to be? Four-five traffic blasting

Tyler pissy cause I'm ashing on his momma Rover seat

Beeline to the substance, impair the judgment

Sticking to the script, thumb sticking to that pump grip

Wolf Gang, nigga