Slater (feat. Frank Ocean)

Tyler, The Creator:

Me and Slater just hit a curb

Bunny hop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D

Made a couple thousands turds spitting written verbs

Shit, now I kick it in the 'burbs

Me? I'm from the slums, niggas who push a ton

Ton of drums, with foul flow dirty mouth like kissing bums

Mama done made her one Uh, a witty son

With no respect for women so show me your titties hun

"You eighteen?", Me? I'm twenty something

Okay I'm twenty, but I'm soon to be twenty-one

I wild out at shows, break shit -- it should be fun

Venues are like pussy with me, "Should he come?"

I'mma wax that like the Chapstick in my backpack, for my black lips

Then dip to Europe and come back with a stack of cheese

A stack of cheese for these rats, Mac and Cheese

New Preme shit got me feeling flyer than a bag of bees

Fuck critics, (how's your dick?), "Shit, how's your knees?"

Y'all on my dick more than my index when I take a pee

Came up with ''Rella'', ain't touch a bag of weed

Shit was doper than Whitney Houston's needs

Golf Wang, that's the team to be, "Aye!", getting TU, OF, indeed

We was missing Sweatshirt like, where's the hooded sleeve

Okay, nevermind, we found him

Guess I win, checks started cashing in

I stop rapping and start asking where my fucking passion is

Probably where that faggot went (who?), Tyler talking father problems

Shocking shit he spit to popping topics in them gossip columns

I ain't ask for this, I did it out of boredom

Thought the roach was cool, he died and pushed me into stardom

Now Ye's PJ sipping leche, Chips Ahoy! boy, listening to Cowboy

Aye boy, land in Melbourne and skate to Fitzroy (Aye!)

AUS was AWES, I enjoyed, boy, y'all niggas played as a tot's toy

Have a good day as I annoy, oi

Cameras with panorama views

My shoes have seen more vans than Mexicanas with crackers in Alabama

G-O-to the-L-F, this O-F, I opened up a store so I don't stress

But nigga I, (what?), mosh in gardens, jazz punk shit

Playing chords, making up shit, pardon my Dolly Parton's

And I keep sharting, hoodies with rectangles and different colors

Niggers think I started kindergarten

My bitch is on my handle bars (I just wanna ride my bike)

Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater

My bitch is on my handle bars

Hair blowing in the wind

Her freckles look like candy bars

Hair blowing in the wind

My bitch is on my handle bars (I just wanna ride my bike)

Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater

My bitch is on my handle bars

Hair blowing in the wind

Her freckles look like candy bars

My cool summer never ends

Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater

Oh my God, seriously?

Mister cool guy

You're talking to a fucking bike, loser

(Ha ha) Oh fuck