I'm a walking paradox, no I'm not Threesomes a fucking triceratops, Reptar Rapping as I'm deaf rock stars Wearing synthetic wigs made of Anwar's Bedrock, harder than a Flintstone Making crack rocks out of nigga fishbones nigga Jasper trying to get grown About 5'7" of his in my bedroom Swallow the cinnamon, I'm a scribble this sin and While Syd is telling me that been getting intimate with men (Syd, the fuck up) Here's the number to my therapist (Shit) him all your problems, he's fucking awesome with listening
Jesus called, he he's sick of the disses I told him to bitching and this isn't a fucking hotline For a fucking shrink, sheesh I already got And he's not fucking working, I think I'm wasting my time I'm clocking three past six and going This the revenge of the dicks, that's nine that cock nines This no V Tech shit or Columbine But after bowling, I went home for some Adventure Time (What'd you do?) I slipped myself some pink And danced around the house in all-over print My gone, that fucking broad will never understand me I'm not gay, I just wanna boogie to Marvin (What you think of Hayley Williams?) Fuck her, Wolf Haley them I'll crash that fucking airplane that faggot nigga B.o.B is in And stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn And won't stop until the come in I'm an over achiever, so how about I a team of leaders And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the receiver paper, gold teeth and pregnant golden retrievers Is all I want, fuck money, diamonds and bitches, don't them But where the fat ones at? I got to feed them It's some cooking books, the black kids never wanted to them back, green ch-ch-chia fucking leaves It's been a couple months, and Tina ain't perm her fucking weave, damn
say success is the best revenge So I beat DeShay up with the stack of I'm in Oh, not again! Another critic report I'm any blogging faggot hipster with a Pitchfork suicidal I am I'm Wolf, Tyler put fucking knife in my hand I'm Wolf, Ace put that fucking hole in my head And I'm Wolf, that was me who shoved a cock in bitch (What the fuck, man?) Fuck the and all the hype, G I just to know if my father would ever like me But I don't give a fuck, so he's probably like me A motherfuckin', (Fuck everything, man) That's my conscience said Then it bunny off my shoulder, now my conscience dead Now the guidance that I had is splattered on cement Actions speak louder than words, let me try shit, dead