Artist: Tyler, the Creator (OFWGKTA) Album: Goblin Song: Yonkers Typed by: kirenamloh@msn.com (Ah, Wolf, Haley... Golf, Wang...) [Tyler, the Creator] I'm a fuckin walking paradox, no I'm not Threesomes with a fuckin triceratops, Reptar Rappin as I'm mockin deaf rock stars Wearin synthetic wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks Bedrock, harder than a muthafuckin Flintstone Makin crack rocks outta pussy nigga fishbones Hehehe! This nigga Jasper tryna get grown About 5'7"/five seven of his bitches in my bedroom Swallow the cinnamon, I'ma scribble this shinnin shit While Syd is tellin me that she's been gettin intimate with men (Syd, shut the FUCK up!) Here's the number to my therapist (Shit~!) Tell him all your problems, he's fuckin awesome with listenin [Chorus] Ah, Wolf, Haley... Ah, Golf, Wang... Ah, Wolf, Haley... Ah, Golf, fuckin Wang... Jesus called, he said he's sick of the disses I told him to quit bitchin, this isn't a fuckin hotline For a fuckin shrink, sheesh I already got mine And he's not fuckin workin', I think I'm wastin my damn time I'm clockin three past six and goin postal This the Revenge of the Dicks, that's nine cocks that cock nines This ain't no V Tech shit or Columbine But after bowlin, I went home for some damn Adventure Time (What'd you do?) I slipped myself some pink Zannies And danced around the house in all-over print panties My mom's gone, that fuckin broad will never understand me I'm not gay/+Gaye+, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin (What you think of Hayley Williams?) FUCK her! Wolf Haley robbin 'em I'll crash that fuckin +Airplane+ that that faggot nigga B.o.B is in And stab Bruno Mars in his GOD-damn esophagus and won't stop until the cops come in.. I'm a over-acheiver, so how 'bout I start a team of leaders And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrievers All I want, FUCK money, diamonds and bitches, don't need 'em But where the fat ones at? I got somethin to feed 'em It's some cooking books, the black kids never wanted to read 'em Snap back, green ch-ch-Chia fuckin leaves It's been a couple months, and Tina still ain't perm her fuckin weave, damn [Chorus] They say success is the best revenge So I beat DeShay up with the stack of magazines I'm in OH~! Not again! Another critic writin report I'm stabbin any bloggin faggot hipster with a Pitchfork Still suicidal? I am I'm Wolf, Tyler put this fuckin knife in my hand I'm Wolf, Ace gon' put that fuckin hole in my head And I'm Wolf, that was me who shoved a cock in your bitch (What the fuck, man?) Fuck the fame and all the hype, G I just wanna know if my father would ever like me But I don't give a FUCK so he's probably just like me! A mutha -- fuckin -- Goblin (FUCK EVERYTHING, MAN) That's what my conscience said Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead Now the only guidance that I had is splattered on cement Actions speak louder than words, let me try this shit... Dead.