VULTURES

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VULTURES

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Wiseman closed his mouth

Madman closed his fist

Young man shows his age

Judge man named it sin

Bad man don' exist, no

No evil man exists

Good man don't exist, no

No righteous man exists

Sad man cannot cry in place where man can see

Never witnessed father weep

This old man thought it weak

But strong man don't exist

No undying man exists

Weak man don't exist, no

Just flesh and blood exists

But your mother would be proud of you

I bet your mother would be proud of you, ooh

The beast will crawl this earth

Then fall in the dirt to feed the crows

They'll rip apart his flesh

'Til all that's left is glorious bone

So you'll bury your own

Too vain

You saw it unfold

What you know

And you claimed all you could hold

Until death did you part from the mess you made

I bet your mother would be proud of you

I bet your mother would be proud of you

Primate sharpens tool

To survive and thrive in the jungle

Maybe hearts were made to pump blood

Maybe lungs were made for flood

I won't blunt my blade for cutting these chains

Rather let my limbs be dragged through mud

You're my brother, but your eyes are cold

You're my sister, but your womb is bare

I bet our mother would be proud of you (You, you, you)

I bet our mother would be proud of you (Mother would be proud)

Bad man don't exist

No evil man exists

I know good man don't exist

No righteous man exists

Strong man don't exist

No undying man exists

Weak man don't exist

No, just flesh and blood exists

You, you, you

You, you

(I bet your mother would be proud, uhh)

(I bet your mother would be proud, ooh)

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3005 😌🏖️☀️

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FRAGILE

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Tyler, The Creator sits down for an episode of online radio network Know Wave’s Koopz Tunes. The Flower Boy artist’s edition of Koopz Tunes features a fun freestyle session, a stream of incredible songs, entertaining conversation and more.

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[Intro]

Uh, you gotta get high like this

You gotta get high like me

You gotta get high like this

You gotta get high like me

You gotta get high like this

You gotta get high like me

You gotta get high like this

You gotta get high like me

[Verse 1]

I'm fuckin' these bitches, alright

I'm havin' my way, alright, uh

My fingers, they muhfuckin' tight

My eyes are open, I'm high

I can't believe I can die

I just realized I was high

I was seventeen on the mic'

I'm tryna be Carti, not Mike

I'm a gigolo, ho, I bite

My whole career, they bitin'

Some niggas, they thinkin' they faster than me

Somebody should tell them they dyin'

I'm done with these niggas and dissin'

I just be pissin', I don't give a fuck

I know I'm on your mood board

Bitch, I'm tryna tell, your ho gon' fuck

All you ever do is copy, all you ever do is mock

Why you talkin' about me?

If you really got a problem, we can handle that problem, yeah, body to body

Buffy the body, my bitch got body, Buffie the body

My bitch got body, yeah, my bitch got body, yeah, my bitch got body

She screech like a hyaena when I get her body

[Bridge]

Travel the world, huh, huh, schyeah, hol' up

On tour with your girl

And it's not my world, it's molly world

And she's not my girl, she's Mali's girl

You play with my top, get a referral

Put 'em in smoke, you get refeered

[Verse 2]

Put 'em in a coffin, put 'em in a coffin

Put 'em in a, uh, put 'em in a, uh, put 'em in a coffin

I jump out the Lamb' truck, she thought that I lost it

I jump off my red eye, push out, then I go to Boston

I stay with like ten thots, often

Everything is arson, F-A, fuckin' awesome

Make sure you tell them niggas, "Watch me"

They don't know how I cross over

Double 0, yeah, the biggest ever, we just gettin' ready for the crossover

Tell the driver he need to pull over, let this bitch come top, then over

Nosebleed, yeah, high speed, huh, I can get the rollover

You been actin' funny and you fake poppin', yeah, just like hot soda

Y'all niggas don't know how to grow up, I been a OG since I was younger

All of my friends are dead, leave 'em in the cold, put 'em in the tundra

I go Ray Charles, I cannot see her, I make her fumble

I was just in Texas with Aliyah, her pussy a jungle

They wanted this album to be offset, but I told them, "I'm comin' normal"

When you play this shit, wear a white tux', young nigga, like you in a formal, hot

It's hot, bitch, it's scorchin'

On the porch, New Yorkin'

She still tryna find young Jordan

[Outro]

I was twenty-four when I had lil' Onyx

(Then I had a daughter, I had a daughter too)

Twenty-seven when I had Yves

Now I can finally sleep

I let the sun

I let the sun beat me home

I let the moon

I let the moon save these hoes

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GELATO*

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Yeah, yeah, you came back and you failed, uh

Second place, can't be in my face, oh, nah

Thick pockets, they think I'm rockin' Chanel

Fat wallet, lil' bitch, you know I got here

Out of pocket with your bitch, Chanel

Done grew me some horns, baby, I'm from hell

Southside, I was in Riverdale

Off molly, that two-tone pill

Rich nigga with all these fuckin' girls

He next, I put him on the mural

She's next, I told her she my girl

Oh, you like that? (Oh, you like that? Oh, you like that?)

Ahahahaha (Oh, you like that?), yeah (Oh, you like that?)

(Oh, you like that? Oh, you like that?)

Oh

Uh, put 'em on the news or somethin' (Schyeah)

Put 'em on the news (Ha, sa)

Put 'em on the news or somethin' (Schyeah)

Put 'em on the news (Sa, sa), yeah

Put 'em on the news or somethin' (Schyeah)

Put 'em on the news, yeah (Sa)

Put 'em on the news or somethin' (Schyeah)

Put 'em on the news, yeah (Ah)

Put 'em on the news or somethin' (Wassup)

Put 'em on the news ('Sup)

Put 'em on the news or somethin' (Wassup)

Put 'em on the news ('Sup)

Put 'em on the news or somethin' (Wassup)

Put 'em on the news (Let's go)

2024, Music

Oh, oh (Hm)

Put 'em on the news or somethin'

I'm evil like Luci' son

A whole lotta bitches be hatin' on me 'cause I got all the buns

Had to fall back with my last bitch 'cause she was just playin' with my lil' time

I'm travelin' the world like the Pope, bringin' the presidents right to my son

Shawty, you gotta be cancer, you make me feel some type way

And no, I can't be canceled 'cause you feel some type way, uh, uh

I'm in the lane, ándale, ándale, ándale

Uh, I'ma keep killin' these hoes, I'm fuckin' on Bombay

Pink in my cup like a brain, sippin' on zombie

Bust the ho, do my braids, then I go hungry

I'm cookin' up like Montay, bitches on me (DJ Montay)

I told her, "The glove don't fit," I'm feelin' like O.J., ooh

The racks in my pocket and I link with Oji

Ooh, two fours in the Sprite, got me feelin' like Kobe, R.I.P., uh

All my boys, they strapped up, don't try shit

Walk inside the party, bitch, we all narcissists

Haha, oh, you like that? Yeah (Whatchu say, Guap?)

Uh, oh, you like that? Yeah, ah, ah

(Oh, you like that?) Oh

Uh, put 'em on the news or somethin'

Put 'em on the news, ha

Put 'em on the news or somethin', woah

Put 'em on the news, ha

Put 'em on the news or somethin', woah

Put 'em on the news, ha

Put 'em on the news or somethin', woah

Put 'em on the news, ha

Put 'em on the news or somethin', hol' up

Put 'em on the news, gang, ha

Put 'em on the news, ha

Put 'em on the news, ha

Put 'em on the news, ha

Oh, hahaha, schyeah

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b4 we kiss goodnight - Tammy Lucas

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