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tyler, the creator - tron cat but you can actually listen to it lyrics

[intro]
la, la, la, la, la, la, la
aaaahhh!

[verse]
satan’s getting jealous of the wolves, the demons say they preferring us
books on not giving a f_ck is what they’re referring us (wolf gang)
wolves, i know you heard of us, we’re murderers
and young enough to get the f_cking priest to come and flirt with us
you n_ggas rap about f_cking b_tches and getting head
instead i rap about f_cking b_tches and getting heads
while you n_ggas stacking bread, i can stack a couple dead
bodies, making red look less of a color, more of a hobby
i’m not a rapper nor a rapist nor a racist
i f_ck b_tches with no permission and tend to hate sh_t
brag about the actions in a rhyming pattern matter
then proceed to sat her down when i go splatter in her chatterbox
atta boy, odd future, you’re not in our categore
torture with the super soaker at the asian liquor store
this the type of sh_t that make a chris brown want to kick a wh0re
that make songs about the wet blockers when it rains and pours
(umbrella) i hate this, screaming f_ck patience
got a n_gga shaking like the calmest f_cking haitian
after chronic m_st_rbation, asking where mary_kate went
i want to be the reasons why all lesbians hate d_ck
i make this d_mn bullwinkle the red moose
game of duck_duck_duct tape with a dead goose
she running ’round this motherf_cking dungeon, her legs loose
until i accidentally get the saw to her head, oops
victim, victim, honey, you’re my fifth one
honey on that topping when i stuff you in my system
rape a pregnant b_tch and tell my friends i had a threesome
you got a f_cking death wish? i’m a genie, it’ll get done
nice to meet you, but it’s more pleasant to eat you
with a leaf of salad and some dressing pouring out a teacup
b_tch, i’m tyler the creature, suck your feet up like a beach of leeches
rubber more than the f_cking bottom of a sneaker
jeeper the f_cking creeper, get your daughter and keep her
in the jeeps where the wolf gang rides around deeper
take her to ladera, now she’s scared and you’re embarrassed
filled with terror, chop her legs off and tell her to run some errands
put her eyes in a canteen, take her to the berrics
stare at steve, say it costs ten to f_ck eric
put her in the lake, her body sinks great, now it’s time to fish her like derek
satan says we’re dangerous, we’re trading kids for angel dust
and snuff and sniff, and now that michael jackson’s trying to suck our d_ck
hippopot the f_cking llamas, dead bodies, cheerleading squaders
gave the team a bunch of f_cking bees and the keke palmer
they will never catch him or catch up
they asked me what it was, i told them f_ckers it was ketchup
nutty like my chex mix, she bleeding from her r_ct_m
odd future wolves stirring ruckus, throwing sets up, yeah
this the type of sh_t that make children break in apartments
when you tell a f_cking orphan you don’t love them ’til they heart thin
(i hate you!) starve her ’til i carve her then i shove her in the rover
where i cut her like a barber with a parkinson’s disorder
store her in a portable freezer with me to portland
catch me with a bunch of f_cking mexicans crossing the border (arriba!)
i’ll be the only wetback who ain’t really touched the water
cause i’ll be too f_cking busy tryna flirt with jesus’ daughter
(f_ck mary) i’m awesome, and i f_ck dolphins
sicker than the starving nigerian kids barfing
odd future wolf gang n_z_ bar mitzvah
with your sister at the bar playing leg and arm twister
evident that i’m the sh_t, i’m the pooh like tigger d_ck
i got these cracker doctors saying, “yeah bob, this n_gga’s sick”
animal safari, if i offend you i’m sorry
because i’m the blackest skinhead since india arie
i don’t smoke weed, so no need for the matches
i said f_ck coke and now i’m snorting hitler’s ashes
i plan on either dying for suicide or my asthma
being the only b_st_rd in a box logo casket
rashes on my d_ck from l!cks of shishkabob sagets
in some kanye west glasses screaming out “f_ck f_ggots”
catch me in my attic taking photos of my dad’s d_ck
drop the beat here to make it extra climactic
[outro: dr. tc]
what the f_ck?
i… i’m speechless, that was… f_ck
sh_t, tyler, you’re gonna need some help
i’m not a… f_ck it, different subject
how’s that girl you were telling me about?

- tyler the creator lyrics

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