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Cowboy

Artist:Tyler, The Creator  Album:Wolf  Composer:Tyler Okonma 

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Knock-knock, mothafucks, it's me, Mr. Clusterfuck What, when, where, how, like who gives a fuck Golf Wang M-O-B, mopping niggas ante up Ain't been this fucking sick since brain cancer ate my Granny up Rest in peace or lie in it, life ain't got no light in it Darker than that closet that nigga Frankie was hiding in Open it, dope in it, Bobby where's my fucking pipe? Dress my little dick as Ike, twenty says I hit your wife This is life, truthfully I just want to fly some kites Grab Salem and Slater and go around, riding bikes Get some ice cream, Golf Wang Roscoe's for the night To skate around and do annoying shit that older peeps despise Nigga, fuck it though, going hard as riga mo Got a nigga dollars and a couple cracker kids at shows Cracked a couple kids in the head with this cast Had a blast out in Europe, had a Swedish bitch licking toes That's how it goes, designing clothes Cats on everything, cats on everything You think all this money will make a happy me? But I'm 'bout as lonely as crackers that supermodels eat Everybody's sparking but me, and I keep coughing Can't keep calm in this spot's hot box and I'm getting nauseous Hop in the car, ride to Saugus, and head straight to the office Pissed off at Jasper because that's some faggot shit called "Pink Dolphin" I roll here on a mean unicorn Green hat, Vans, Golf top is the team uniform Downing that Capri Sun, tighten my bandana up Something like a lez, I'm forgetting my damn manners cause I am the cowboy on my own trip And I am the cowboy on my own trip And I am the cowboy on my own trip And I am the cowboy When you're alone thoughts start coming in


Posted By: cotodama_mp1
Number of PetitLyrics Plays:3





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