"Jack And The Beanstalk" lyrics - TYLER, THE CREATOR

"Jack And The Beanstalk"

They don't paint pictures, they just trace me

Odd Future, I'm your mothafucking sergeant
Nigga, I'm in charge, I fuck with Freshjive
'Cause I get it, no charge, and BBC for the low price
No barging, nigga that's a bargain
Cow print t-shirt like mothafucking dog
On the mothafucking farm with cockadoddle doodles
I'm making straight bitches pussy wet just like a noodle
And my dick must be dog food to these bitches' poodles
Felines on the free time, I'm tossing bitches' salads
And I'm eating up they croutons, Erica to Milan
We was flying to Milan, was supposed to go to Bangkok
Until she figured out that she don't really like to bang cock
To Soho, Baby Milo so dope
The cocaine flow, niggas spit heat, propane
Niggas get the picture, I see, why?
(They don't paint pictures, they just trace me)

My nigga, no hook
My nigga, no hook
My nigga, no hook
My nigga, no hook
No hook, fuck a hook

Yo, beside me, nobody likes me
Mainly because I am not a fucking HypeBeast
I think Supreme suck, we gnarly in our Nikes
I can wear some Wranglers, with a fucking White T
Doo-rags to match, and I do sag
In fact, my hat is in tact with the Fubu pull over
Nigga, you pull over, fuck a Rover Range
And I'm driving a unicorn, plus my bitch is strange
And I'm the only fucking rapper without a chain
With a four finger ring like I can't spell my fucking name
And I go to Obama rallies screaming out "McCain"
Them ignorant thrashing mothafuckers is my gang
And the dirty Ladera, I can't forget where I came from
Nigga, you don't claim none, fun I am the teacher
White and black bitch like she's a mothafucking zebra
Candies in my pocket, I see you niggas on Easter

My nigga, no hook
My nigga, no hook
My nigga, no hook
My nigga, no hook
No hook, fuck a hook

(It's gold) The gold is in the back
(It's gold) The bitch is in the front
(It's gold) The beat's a fucking bully
(Go home) The lyric's just a punk, man
(Gold) The pink is in the sky
(That shit's gold) The gold is in my mind
(It's gold) The mind is in my gold
The beat is turning old, so go

Synthesizer, I'm the mothafucking master
Nigga, I'm a bastard, I fuck with chord keys
'Cause the sound lasts longer, bass drummer song
And a hi-hat made of plastic, nigga's sound is elastic
Nigga, you can bite this, unless you want to bite back
I didn't take my fucking Ritalin, this is a hype track
HypeTrack that and send it, nigga it's a sack shit
I had you motherfuckers eating salad like a fat bitch

Drop it, Ace the Creator, O.F.M, banging on your FM
Ace the Creator, drop the drums, nigga, thank you to HypeBeast