Tyler, The Creator Ft. Lil Wayne & Kanye West - Smuckers (Lyrics)

[Hook] For your boy

I’m watchin’ Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor

I’m tryna pop the Maclaren with the vertical doors nigga

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator] Money, money, money, money, money ain’t the motive

What’s your name again? Nobody knows it

Don’t speak to me nigga, you not important

I’m focused

They say I’m nutty, picnic basket

Not short of a sandwich

A peanut butter, [?]‘s a faggot

Please come and get me

Said I suck him at your neck

Like a hickey, boy I’m sicky

Like a HIV victim , man nobody fuckin’ with me

I got banned from New Zealand, Whitey called me demon

And a terrorist, God dammit I couldn’t believe it

Ban a kid from the country, I never fall, never timber

But you fucked up as a parent, your child idol’s a nigger

I clearly don’t give a fuck, say you could run that shit back

And fuck your loud pack, and fuck your Snapchat

Cherry Bomb, the greatest fuckin’ album since the Days of Sound

And that shit gon’ pop just like that nigga that was never ’round

Damn, bout to drop, gas em up, thick exhaust

Young T, came quick, hard to beat, dick is soft

We ain’t lyin’, we the truth, call him Simba, beats his hooves

Tyler the Creator sweatin’ Jesus juice

Put that fuckin’ cow on my level, cause I’m raisin’ the stakes

Mom I made you a promise, its no more section 8

When we ate its the steaks, now our section is great

Cause that’s the level I’m at, my niggas pass em a plate

Ye!

[Verse 2: Kanye West] Why, why, why, why don’t they like me

Cause Nike gave lot of niggas checks

But I’m the only nigga ever to check Nike

Richer than white people with black kids

Scarier than black people with ideas

Nobody can tell me where I’m headin’

But I feel like Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen at my wedding

They say I’m crazy but that’s the best thing going for me

You can’t Lynch Marshawn, and Tom Brady throwin’ to me

I made a million mistakes, but I’m successful in spite of em

I believe you like a fat trainer takin’ a bite or somethin’

I wanna turn the tanks to playgrounds

I dream’t of 2Pac, he asked me “are you still down?”

“Yeah my nigga”, Its on, its on, its on, its on

I know they told their white daughters don’t bring home Jerome

I am the free nigga archetype

I am the light and the beacon, you can ask the deacon

And flirty women get extra money

Every joke you tell just be extra funny

I mean you can even dress extra bummy

Cocaine, bathroom break, nose extra runny

And I gave you all I got, you still want extra from me

Oxford want a full blown lecture from me

And the Lexus pull up, skrrtt

I studied the proportions, emotions runnin’ out of Autobahn

Speed level, had a drink with fear, and I was textin’ God

He said “I gave you a big dick, so go extra hard”

[Hook 2] For your boy

I’m tryna pop the McLaren with the vertical doors

I’m watchin’ Freaks and Geeks got a trampoline in my room

Damn

[Bridge] Two, Three, Four

Hold your fuckin’ horses

Niggas really fuckin’ thought that T lost it

Like I’m better at an auction been exhausted

I been workin’ while y’all cylinders smoke like broken exhaust tips

Fuckin’ losers

[Lil Wayne] Hold your fuckin’ ponies my homie

I whip your donkey by my lonely I eat pussy like Shoney’s

That’s Tunechi, homie master of ceremonies

I knock ‘em down, domino effect, no pepperoni

I swear

[Verse 3: Tyler the Creator and Lil Wayne] This them golf balls, like them hot boys

For the nine, 9 and 2,000, but its the 2,000

When the one four and the one five, yo what up Wayne

(What up Slime, nigga go hard)

Yeah, I’mma go hard like before Cain

Got too much drive, need like ten lanes

Life is a broad and she give brain

That’s that road head, thats a dream car

Got a four ten, of that same year I was born

That’s that one nine nine one, ’nother nigga like I

You gon’ find one, cuz nigga I’m a god, a divine one, Tune

[Verse 4: Lil Wayne] My trigger finger wise but my nine dumb

Middle finger blind so its fuck a and why one

Fuck, skate and die son, a hundred ways to die son

I’m starin’ at a tramp on lean, make my eye jump

Use Adderall like alarm clocks wake my high up

Steaks are high well done and prime cut, eat up

I stick my rollie in her mouth, let the time come

She got hair like Shanaynay, and eyes like Wonda

Oh my goodness

[Verse 5: Tyler, the Creator] Wayne them bitches ugly, these niggas colder than Tommy buddy

Ye we hittin’ models like Tony Parker be hittin’ bottles

Bitch I’m goin’ harder than yellow cabby stoppin’ for Lionel

(Black ass nigga)

They be duckin’ us niggas, shout out to Donald Sterling

Boy lets get a scrimmage, i’ll cut some niggas, I’ll bring the Clippers

And a couple owners, that’s kinda German

You bring the nooses, and a couple trees

Where the money grow, and [get] bodies burning

Cuz I’m tryna hang like I’m Mr. Cooper or Jews in Berlin

Or some niggas from Alabama, Birmingham

I need [music] all over the street like Erick Sermon

Was, fuck us, maybe we should team up

Anti Golf boys cuz I don’t fuck with me either

I’mma liar, I’mma faggot

[Verse 6: Lil Wayne] Son you need Jesus

But I heard he left sunset, to go on tour with Yeezus, well

I’m playin’ for the new yeezy’s

And you pussies playin’ at the squash the beef like Zucchinis

I know, it ain’t gain, nor fame, nor tame

Or lame, nor strange

[Outro] Nah faggot its Golf Wang