Tyler, The Creator

Tyler, The Creator - Sandwitches lyrics

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N*gga had the f*ckin' nerve to call me immature
F*ck you think I made Odd Future for?
To wearin' f*ckin' suits and make good decisions?
F*ck that n*gga, Wolf Gang

[Verse 1: Tyler]
Who the f*ck invited Mr. I Don't Give a F*ck
Who cries about his daddy in a blog because his music sucks? (I did! )
Well, you f*ckin' up, and truthfully I had enough
And f*ck Rolling Papers, I'm a rebel, b*tch, I'm ashin' blunts (Sorry)
Full of shit, like I ate that John
Come on kids, f*ck that class and hit that bong
Let's buy guns and kill those kids with dads and mom
With nice homes, 401k's, and nice ass lawns
Those privileged f*cks gotta learn that we ain't takin' no shit
Like Ellen Degeneres clitoris is playin' with dick
I'm jealous as shit, cause I ain't got no home meal to come to
So, if you do I'm throwin' fingers out screamin' "f*ck you"
I got ten of these Kennedy's
Not Dom, but if I was a Dahm, I would be Jeffery
'Preme hat the color of a leprechaun with leprosy
I'm f*ckin' 'bout it, 'bout it, like I'm Master P in '96
It's f*ckin' immaculate, they way your daughter smackin' dicks
Surprised she hasn't taked the nasty d*ck inside her alley you
The Golf Wang hooligans, is f*ckin' up the school again
And showin' you and yours that breakin' rules is f*ckin' cool again
I'm goin' harder than a midget jumpin' over me
Chronic youth, I'm shovin' blunt wraps in b*tches ovaries
Punches to the stomach where that bastard kid supposed to be
F*ck a mask, I want that ho to know it's me, ugh

[Hook]
Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang
Courtesy of
It's the Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang
It's the Wolf Gang, it's the Wolf Gang
It's the Wolf Gang, Golf Wang
It's the Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang
Wolf Gang, triple six crew
It's the Wolf Gang, Golf Wang
Wolf Gang kill them

[Verse 2: Hodgy]
My love is gone for you mommy, you could ride in hearses
I'm sick in the brain dumb b*tch, can you nurse this?
You told me life would never, ever, ever get this perfect
Then you smoke a J of weed, and take his kids to the churches
Uh, f*ck church, they singin' and the shit ain't even worth it
In the choir, whores and liars, scumbags and the dirt, b*tch
You told me God was the answer
When I ask him for shit, I get no answer, so God is the cancer
I'm stuck in triangles, lookin' for my angel
Kill me with a chainsaw, and let my balls dangle
Triple six is my number; you can get it off my Tumblr

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Hodgy]
It was hilarious, well it ain't f*ckin' funny now
I'll push this f*ckin' pregnant clown into a hydrant stuck in the ground
I step through the stomach, replace the baby with some f*ckin' pounds
"My baby daddy shoot bricks, the n*gga also shoot rounds"
Cause if I shoot blanks, oops, thanks
I'm right back in it dead yummy and her mildew stank, uhh

[Tyler]
Free Earl, that's the f*ckin' shit
And if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks
Um, Wolf Gang, that's the f*ckin' clique
Golf Wang kill them all n*gga, triple six
F*ck 2DopeBoyz, all them n*ggas b*tches
We don't need y'all, The Fader's who we really f*ckin' with, b*tch

[Outro: Tyler]
And we don't f*ckin' make horrorcore, you f*ckin' idiots
Listen deeper than the music before you put it in a box
Wolf gang
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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