Burger (feat. Hodgy Beats) - Tyler, The Creator

Nigga this is my cup, drink the cyanide up

Dope as fuck so I would really shoot a group of guys up

Deep thought I'm often lost in (Fuck it) put me next to awesome

Still can't tell the difference, just like Asians with their eyes shut

Butt fuck a couple rots, in the Wendy's parking lot

Barking at the sight of light from my bright sparkling

Cock-a-doodle, eatin' toaster strudel at a nude beach in Rome

In a black Bape spaghetti strap, made of Ramen noodles

My bitch is bad, mixed with a thicky ass

Get my dick Iraq-y, this will end up in a stick BLAST

Chrissy Brown, mask on my face, now I'm kicking ass

Life's a bitch, fuck college, mommy I am ditching class

I rather be happy then fucking forty

So fuck the teacher's lecture I'm having Sydney record me

For the 2Dope. (They didn't like it)

Oh well, let's get XXL to write us a fucking story

It's sitting right in my lap I see it, scribbled across the lines I read it

I'm the fucking poet who knows it, you know it, you bogus

Comprehend the language, you scared of war?

I'm all anxious, we got the Angus if you want beef

Now that's a burger for ya ass nigga (Slice the onions)

Now that's a burger for ya ass nigga (Put on the cheese)

Now that's a burger for ya ass nigga (Where's the barbeque sauce?)

Now have that burger eat it fast nigga

Fucking aw, get you some, obviously intended pun

Same time it took, Jason Dill to get the stitching done

Custom made, one of one, sold out Roxy performance

Ski mask color of a pickle just to perform Sandwitches

Started back in fucking London cracker children wanted something

They could bump and punch a bunch of fucking faces, stomp 'em out

Moshing pits to breaking arms, Zombie Circus not a carn

Evil wolves is on the farm and were all evil harmed?

Any sheep creep, quiet tendered sleep

Make a peep, fucking body will go missing in a week

Roam around the city with her titties like a fucking greek

God, Bastard was the fucking shit, explains why it never leaked

I am coming of my age with my Memphis Bleek

Shooting from the sky, the only problem is the missing beak

(Once I have my wings and my motherfucking chain)

Oh that's the black talking in me, let me down a couple cups of bleach

Free Earl, that's the fucking shit

And if you disagree, lick a couple pimple covered clits

From some stripping lesbian dykes that fight niggas

That like to rap about those dykes that fight niggas

Alright, enough with this shit, let's talk business

Acquire more currency, disregard bitches

Go to Shakes house and play Goblin in his kitchen

Then force him and his mom to listen to track six then

If he doesn't like it I'll just slice his fucking dick and

Put it in the cabinet where the fucking cookies and chips is

Go to Jimmy Fallon like faggot when we perfomin'

Then a bunch of Golf Wang niggas start stormin' on the stage

In a rage that will scare Zack Rocha

Better get ya tanks before this wolf wars over

History repeats itself, I'm a O.F. soldier