Letra da Música The Brown Stains Of Darkeese Latifah Part 6-12 (Remix) (Feat. Schoolboy Q) de Tyler, The Creator

Oh, you the motherfucking man, huh?
Oh, you be fucking bitches
Counting all the bands, huh?
Oh, you be trapping
Out the bando selling grams, huh?
Oh, you be smoking, drinking lean
And popping xans, huh?
You see, that's the bullshit
That I don't need
I'm telling y'all niggas
Y'all ain't fucking with me
See, I look in the mirror and he said
"you are the man"
And I said, "hey man, I agree"
Rocks on rainbow, ben's a nice fellow
Your neck reflects your personality
And mine is yellow
Boy, I hit the block, like I hate legos
They know, they got thirty seconds; jared leto
Before they see some halos
And I reload the ammo
Boy, it's golf wang-o
And that's the squad I bang-o
Until my fucking brain go
Now let's reload the aim-o

Can't a nigga get some fucking chaos in hurr?
I'm the truth and the dare
And you can get your ass beat
Like a kick and a snare
Schoolboy's my niggy
You know I'm good in the 50s
That boy's not that bad, enh, it's no biggie
It's the g-o, the l-f, we go-go, no homo
We black out
And go hard like jojo and fuckin' diggy
No ship in this series
Since I pissed off iggy man
We been that man since batman had a sidekick
Catch me in some vans
Like one of them soccer mamas
And them bitches blue
Like that family went to the dodgers
Solve 'em (oh no!)
You can't bitch, I'm a problem
And you'll get fucked up
Like the thoughts inside of my noggin
Going harder than the quidditch
In harry potter
All my shows got one black
In it like larry david
And I'm that nigga
Meaning I'm two niggas, I'm schizo
Brent lowe, my motherfucking bingo
Pink and yellow on my neck
Remind you of my dickhole
And I don't really fuck with you niggas
Shout out to jim crow
Don't get offended, love being darkskinned
23 With the crib and I don't got no tenants
And I don't like sports
But the court got a tennis
Is that diamonds on your neck?
Stay the fuck out my business
See, that's that cherry bomb, get my burr on
That's mclaren, '91 out the chevron
Motors flog gnaw, vans on, fuck your jordans
Went from throwing up to throwing carnivals
Boy, I'm a sicko, flaco nigga, but kinda macho
Boy, I got some vatos
And shout out to schooly, he kinda loco
Pack a de la pistol
We splitting nachos, then for that cheese
Boy, he was using some shells just like a taco
So grab your goggles
Nigga, taco tuesday
You don't want none of that
Have you heard of fairfax? boy
We was running that
Nigga took the store from us
Yeah, fuck all of that
(man, he really took the store)

Crack a cracker with a barrel, uh (yeah)
Gang bang tattoos, this ain't a louis rag (rag)
Orange paisley got me crip crazy (uh, sup 'cause?)
Pants heavy, sag to the left
With the belt strapped
No face mask, nigga, just toe tags
Still the blunts getting passed, yeah
Ain't worried 'bout no niggas (nigga)
Grieve over suckers (sucker)
Gunpowder on my knuckles (knuckle)
Call the ambulances (ambulances)
I'm from the era of crip walking
You was clown-dancing, you wanna be me, huh?
'cause is wack in his raps
And what he rap, he ain't done
Top dawg, wolf gang
Smell the cat on your tongue
Pussy boy, you fucked over
Nigga, control your gums
Teeth missing
Moms' won't recognize your face when it's lump
My square homie's license
Double life in my trunk
Mind, power, body, and soul
We break handcuffs
Got a strike on my record
Double cups, and duck
You want the life like us
You need to crip that coast
You want to steer that wheel
You want to smoke that kil'
Well, who am I?

Shit, piss, fuck, cunt
Cocksucker, motherfucker
Anything that'll piss you muthafuckas off
I don't even smoke
And I'm a level up of all of y'all
Bitch, you couldn't reach me with a ladder
And a calling card

I'm special, nigga
Who the fuck are you?
I'm special, nigga

They used to tell me to calm down
Said I have a problem
Now I'm runnin' shit
That's why you never see me wearin' joggers
Lead by example, how?
All y'all is my son
And I ain't never had a fuckin' father
Boy, I'mma bring the noise
I got my own beat and we all got drums
What these weapons about?
We're just flexin' about
You on your grind who the one
That got the wep at their house?
Bitch, I do this on purpose
You niggas don't got a purpose
This nigga call me a clown
Nigga I own the circus
Stack is sittin' in my pocket
Folded up like a papaya
You know I golf bitch
Like I been sleepin' with tiger
Woody woody, my mob, mob is goodie we oddkast
We o-k-k-k just like the clan
Hoodie golf shit packet
Rip it out the fuckin' package
In that all pink fit lookin'
Like a fuckin' faggot
Who the fuck you think you fuckin' with, nigga!
I'm a bad case of I don't even know
I'm about to tear the shit
Out this goddamn house
I think I'm about to blow
My muthafuckin' brains out
Tyler, take a chill pill, nigga