Songtext Tamale Tyler The Creator

Tamale

Featuring Tallulah

(Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator)
They say I've calmed down since the last album,
Well, lick my dick, how does that sound? (Umm),
Smell my gooch, you could kiss my buns,
And I don't give a shit, bend my rectum,
Somebody said bands make her dance,
You think you're getting cash, no bitch, you're dumb,
The only thing that you're gonna get is this dick,
Wait turn this up, bitch, this my jam, (Where the drums at?)
Here, take a goddamn picture,
And tell Spike Lee he's a goddamn nigger,
And while you're at it pass the lotion
In fact, get an Xbox Live, that fun,
Before I come, I'm calling your sister,
When she comes over, I take picture,
Instantly put it on Instagram and suplex her off a building if I get bun

(Hook: Tallulah and Tyler, the Creator)
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Why y'all so salty,
I do Molly on again,
Bitch I'm on you
Your boy is bad to the bone

(Verse 2: Tyler, the Creator)
Bring back the horns that was played in the beginning,
And tell Tony Parker that I found his vision,
And if he's tripping off my sneak dissing,
Then he has to deal with me and my minions,
Tryna get a bimmer, E46,
Have you heard 48, motherfucka I'm great,
Golf Wang prints always cover the sleeves,
From cuts from the beach, to these puff in the trees, please,
Fuck I look like? Got a new bike tire,
Never popped like the pussy on a bitch dyke,
Think I give a fuck, I do, I go balls,
And I bust in her jaw like (Fuck that disease!)
My urethra, hole that I pee from,
Bigger than a old b snapped on a recon,
Now, turn that snare down,
I'm back like I'm Rosa Parks fare on the same damn bus,
Like "You're going to jail now!"

(Hook: Tallulah and Tyler, the Creator)
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Why y'all so salty,
I do Molly on ,
Keep the thing bitch I'm on you
Your boy is bad to the bone

(Verse 3: Tyler, the Creator)
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?
If a woodchuck could ever give a fuck?
Bitch Suck Dick, motherfuck you and your opinions,(Can you kick it?)
Yes I can sir, what a lumpus
Sicker than my last bum motor on my seal
Fuck Michael bitch I'm better than my bill
Find me a lunch while my dam's doing chimo
Before they reposses I'm strong I'm boxing tuxedos

(Hook 2: Tallulah and Tyler, the Creator)
Yeah Buddy, Na Na Na Na Na Na Na!
Golf Wang, Golf Wang, Go Fuck You, Na Na Na Na Na Na!
Why y'all so salty,
I do Molly on ,
Keep the thing bitch I'm on you
Your boy is bad to the bone

(Verse 4: Tyler, the Creator)
How many fags can I light bup scoop,
Well if I has a dick, they be two's and sixes,
And tell me when I ram about to lose my shit,
Shoot through wave I be out here with a crucifix,
How many ladies in the house?
How many ladies in the house without a rich nigga, huh?
A little Jergins in my palm for the jerkin',
Hope my Mom don't catch me, tryna set mood,
Little Redtube, fuck lotion, I don't need lube, dryfit suits me,
Up and down, friction with the sound, shit's kind of disgusting,
Fap time and before I flatline, Clancy chimes in my room and catch me,
This shit's so damn embarrassing like...