Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Slater , by - Tyler, The Creator. Release date: 31.03.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Slater |
| Me and Slater just hit a curb, |
| Bunny hop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D, |
| Made a couple thousands turds spitting written verbs, |
| Shit, now I kick it in the 'burbs |
| Me? |
| I’m from the slums, niggas who pushing tons |
| Tons of drugs, Foul flow dirty mouth like kissing bums |
| Momma done made her one, a witty son |
| With no respect for women so-so, show me your titties hun |
| «You eighteen?», Me? |
| I’m twenty something |
| Okay I’m twenty, but I’m soon to be twenty-one |
| I wild out at shows, break shit it should be fun |
| Venues are like pussy with me, «Should he cum?» |
| I’mma wax that like the chapstick in my backpack, for my black lips |
| Then dip to Europe and come back with a stack of cheese |
| A stack of cheese for these rats, Mac and Cheese |
| New Preme shit got me feeling flyer than a bag of bees |
| Fuck critics, (How's your dick?), «Shit, How’s your knees?» |
| Y’all on my dick more than my index when I take a pee |
| Came up with «Rella», ain’t touch a bag of weed |
| Shit was doper than, Whitney Houston’s needs |
| Golf Wang, that’s the team to be, «Aye!», getting TU, OF NB |
| We was missing Sweatshirt like, where’s the hooded sleeve |
| Okay, nevermind, we found him |
| Guess I win, checks started cashing in, |
| I stopped rapping and started asking «Where my fucking passion is?», |
| Probably where that faggot went (Who?), Tyler talking father problems, |
| Shocky shit he spit to popping topics in a gossip column, |
| I ain’t ask for this, I did it out of boredom, |
| Thought that roach was cool, he died and pushed me into stardom, |
| Now Ye’s PJ sippin leche, Chips Ahoy! |
| boy, listening to Cowboy, |
| Aye boy, land in Melbourne and skate to Fitzroy (Aye!), |
| AUS was AWES, I enjoyed, boy, y’all niggas played as a tot’s toy, |
| Have a good day as I annoy, oi. |
| Cameras with panorama’s views |
| My shoes have seen more vans than Mexicanas with crackers in Alabama |
| G-O-to the-L-F, this O-F, I open a store so I don’t stress |
| But nigga I, (What?), mosh in gardens, jazz punk shit |
| Playing chords, making up shit, pardon my Dolly Parton’s |
| And I keep sharting, hoodies with rectangles and different colors |
| Niggers think I started kindergarten |
| My bitch was on my handle bars |
| (I just wanna ride my bike) |
| Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater |
| My bitch was on my handle bars |
| Hair blowing in the wind |
| Her freckles look like candy bars |
| Hair blowing in the wind |
| My bitch was on my handle bars |
| (I just wanna ride my bike) |
| Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater |
| My bitch was on my handle bars |
| Hair blowing in the wind |
| Her freckles look like candy bars |
| My cool summer never ends |
| Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater |
| Oh my god. |
| I guess you’re a cool guy |
| You’re talking to a fucking bike, loser |
| (haha) |
| Oh… Fuck. |