Lyrics Blow My Load - Tyler, The Creator, Wanya Morris, Dâm-Funk

Blow My Load

I don’t want you thinking I love you cause I stay
Girl I really like you and happy we got laid
I think about your windows like two times in a day
I’m a pervert with a purpose, like priest who just got saved
Kissing, kissing, I’m on a mission of licking
The holy grail of your body, when you be kissin', Mrs
This is a kid from Africa, you, you are a kitchen
I come quicker than pitches from Sammy Sosa
You hoping I’m joking, but first
I’ma eat your pussy til you tell me you can’t take it
Screaming «Stop it,"don't you fake it, wanna tape it
Grab my camera
Nine months later with a Tyler baby
But that won’t happen til I blow my load
Your pussy tighter than door hinges
I munch you like sandwiches
But not any more cause I’m on tour, so
Look: FaceTime your clit, I will jack off my dick
I go hard, shit
I might need an ice pack on my wrist
Fucking, I’m pumping
You know it’s coming, bust in a couple of seconds
I’m sweating, I leave you slump
In the back of my truck, butt naked
Suck it out of me
I leave you with nothing, get it?
This is what you wanted, this is what you came for
You blow me away
With your cherry
(Can't breathe)
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