Session

I'm Tyler, Mr. Green Hat, pro-abortion anti-clean rap

Fuck your blog opinion and your feedback

My self-respect I leave that, in the lost and found

Where the black girls get their weaves back

Awesome I achieve that mini, blasting "You're a jerk"

In some fucking yellow skinnies looking like a fucking faggot

Bouncing round the house trying to find an easy way to rape Minnie

Bet you thirty dollars you find her like Cartman found Kenny, dead

I like my girls smart, skinny

Kinda pop tart, when I bite into them red

I'm a self-racist, you should tape this, ask Sarah, I'm the rapist

I'm a fascist, fuck fashion, Gucci belts is for them faggots

My hat is by Jabbia and if you got a fucking problem

With the future, you can get a death wish just like Atiba

Fuck the biz apparent, Odd Future errant

I'm watching the Berrics getting head from someone's parent

Blind fucking hate inside my heart, guaranteed

That I'm sharing in the force with the cyclops staring

I'm flying on a beaver, you're a disbeliever

So don't ask for no mothafucking ride when you see us

Swim right past you, the shit-list said that I'm nutty such a cashew

Cause I jack off with dish soap and smell gas fumes

Permanent brain damage similar to tattoos

The shit, you can mention me if anybody ask you

Kill the jungle let the cats loose

You didn't see me here if someone ask you

I want to feel her in every way

Mary Jane keeps me high like every day

Bong, vaporizer, in the sack now

Stuck in my high, afraid of heights, I'm trapped

Buy a swisher for a dollar or two blunt wraps

Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat

She ain't got time to try and relieve ya

But she'll get all in your head, Sativa

I'm good but y'all don't want me like vegetables

I'm all in front of you zeroes like decimals

Let's take them high like the decibels

So we get them high, get them high like cholesterol

In the overweight mother-lover, my tracks is filled with blubber

That's fat, who needs another producer?

Chicago get it from Odd Future, used to ride solo

Cause I ain't really care what the rest say

Type of nigga to jerk off to his own sex tape

Best stay away when the door closed, I show up with four hoes

Best believe I'm leaving with more of those

And I got a girlfriend so I'm a keep lying until the verse end

Bran Deshay, Hodgy Beats, Ace the Creator

Odd Future, O.F. until, until from now until forever

We grind, these niggas asking for some promo

We sit back, observe, stacking hella box logos

Square circle jerks starting O.F. moshpit

Preaching to the poets, I'm an O.F. prophet

No less profit, themed when we drop shit

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

It's that crack, give you something to sell

Put these bitches on lock down, something like jail

Thought she hot I swear, probably rougher than hell

And she ain't gay, but the only thing she like is fucking Chanel

Light skinned women, all sex everything

Think we can fit ten in, bowls packed with everything

Everything that we call flight, living life

This is everything that we call hype

I'm everything that they call nice

She in colors and shit, she off that northern lights, right

Intimidated by niggas you can't be

I'm a G, and this is something you can't see

Top ranked, number one my son

And she looking for them trees, baby we got some

And stay focused on the women and you get less done

It's ironic cause I always hear you talking about one

Them other niggas smoke, they ain't this high

How high? Nigga, higher than the kites they fly