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zombie circus (2013) - tyler, the creator lyrics

this is like zombie circus,for me
i told my counselor i’m contemplating k!lling these instrumentals that was f*cked. used to fill a cell and pump bass these keys to rappers i was dealing made me a crazy man. mom passed a f*cking ritalin, b*tches throw they p*ssy at me like they mad at kittens. got me p*ssing red and green sh*t like it’s f*cking christmas. but i’m a f*cking virgin if you listen when i say i ate your motherf*cking guts, i’m not kidding. my suicide notes already written, it said f*ck you and all cats be specific. company that that piano kept me, i cannot comprehend you n*ggas, i’m dyslexic. with skinheads, skateboarders, somewhere where your ex be. you roll with thugs, you can find me where the t*rex be. busted ass cap, busted ass shoes, on a scale to one to two, i’m f*cking awesome plus tax, i’m done

one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish, f*ck going to parks, i’m re*inducted, sweet sh*t. the devil said i’m heaven sent, my f*cking sk!lls are evident. you’re irrelevant like us having a n*gga president. your black people stick to me like velcro, but i don’t think no one can touch me, tickle me elmo. you’re a f*cking h0m*, snack, a lunchable. i’m an adam’s family member, you’re a f*cking huxtable. my superman state of thought cape is baked. you’re in a diamond supply, but you do not even escape. you’re backwards big, no forward thought sh*t. like fat people wearing skinny jeans they can’t fit. if i die, tell my mama i took a dollar out her wallet. always out the motherf*cking box, no end. don’t have a religion, ignorant, no sin. in my book, first page, no end, i’m done

uh, uh, uh, uh

this is right i’m trying to show i’m proud of you. f*ck lame hoodies, my mom couldn’t. naked jazz records, jimmy gordon endler, i would be k!ller or sh*tty. k!ller, i could be, but i’m a f*cking dinosaur. you can hear me make a roar, right inside your f*cking store. interesting your f*cking brain, right inside the f*cking door. my key got three locks to open the beat box where i keep my instruments on some sentimental sh*t. y’all don’t got made backs, y’all be on some rental sh*t. i’m broke as f*ck, my pockets need some rental sh*t. smile with the gold fronts, like i’m on some dental sh*t. walk inside supreme like i’m on some skate mental sh*t. talking to myself, yeah i’m on some rental sh*t

sh*t sh*t

uh, uh, uh, uh

yeah

- tyler the creator lyrics

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