About "Goblin" album:
This page contains lyrics from the album
"Goblin" by Tyler The Creator, which was released in 2011 and consists of 14 songs.
I can grab the fireworks, the soda, all the cookies we could eat
Make you nauseous but be cautious, this is not Dawson's Creek
We could sneak away, fuck it, you could bring an eighth
I'm not gon' smoke but I'm just asking baby ņould you meet me by the
Said bring a towel, well baby meet me by the lake
Bathing suit it's going down, shit just meet me by the lake
We could count the shooting stars, well could you meet me by the lake?
Summer never has to end with me
Bitch Suck Dick
Awww shit (swag)
Three icy ass niggas from Odd Future doin' some crazy shit (bitch)
By the way, we do punch bitches
[Verse 1: Jasper]
I'm swagging bitch, I'm iced out
Oh you mad bitch cause I'm laying on the couch
Smoke a blunt, fuck a bitch, in the butt, I'm bossing
Don't give a fuck, I never roll Slauson
Nigga this is my cup, drink the cyanide up
Dope as fuck so I would really shoot a group of guys up
Deep thought, I'm often lost (Fuck it) put me next to awesome
Still can't tell the difference, just like Asians with their eyes shut
Butt fuck a couple rocks, in the Wendy's parking lot
Barking at the sight of light from my bright sparkling
Cock-a-doodle, eatin' toaster strudel at a nude beach in Rome
In a black-pink spaghetti strap, made of Roman noodles
My bitch is bad, mixed with a thicky ass
Slip it in her drink
And in the blink of an eye I can make a white girl look chink
Don't know what to think
Cause last time I attempted this shit the judge ordered
Me to see a shrink
Started with a link
Intended her to meet me at the local
Odd Future Wolf Gang skating rink
We be uniquely in sync
(You wouldn't do that, Tyler.
Kill yourself or anyone.
You don't even have the balls to begin with.
What you need is me.
Someone to talk to.
Uh, it's been a while since our last session.
So, tell me what's been going on.)
I'm not a fuckin' role model.
Dr. TC -
"Tyler, you obviously have some fucking problems... and, this is, this the end of this session ah... lets... , is there anything else you gotta say?"
Mom is getting jealous I see my manager more,
Than I see her before I go on tour and it hurts(yeah)
I miss the days where this was fun but now it turned into work
It getting legal so I gotta watch the shit that I blurt, out
(As you should this shits on radio)
My friends have been turnin in the opposite
Because my life is turning in to opposite of sloppy risk
(It's this girl)
She lives next door
To the store that I loiter at
We talk every night, she cry to me about her guy
And if we text, I get pissed when I get no reply
(It's this girl)
I know that she's the key to love
She is who I'm thinking of when I ain't beating Richard up
The mental images her face looked
So, you tell me that everything just isn't going well
Well, first off
My only problem is death
F*ck heaven, I ain't showing no religion respect
Brain damage, therapy's the only thing I regret
Talking to me is like a fucking body missing her neck
But, I'm surprised I ain't pop off my top off
Hey, don't do anything that I say in this song, okay? It's f*ckin' fiction
If anything happens, don't f*ckin' blame me, white America, f*ck Bill
4, 3, 2, 1
What the f*ck I look like saying I'm sorry
To a bunch of f*cking fags that can potentially harm me?
N*gga had the f*ckin' nerve to call me immature
F*ck you think I made Odd Future for?
To wearin' f*ckin' suits and make good decisions?
F*ck that n*gga, Wolf Gang
[Verse 1: Tyler]
Who the f*ck invited Mr. I Don't Give a F*ck
Who cries about his daddy in a blog because his music sucks? (I did! )
Well, you f*ckin' up, and truthfully I had enough
And f*ck Rolling Papers, I'm a rebel, b*tch, I'm ashin' blunts (Sorry)
[Verse 1: Frank Ocean]
Golden rubbers in these denim pockets (denim pockets)
On my waist, there's a black Glock (black Glock)
New girl moved on the block (on the block)
She been plottin' on my brown cock (brown cock)
Last night I slept over hers (over hers)
During sex, I overheard (I overheard)
A sword sliced the air, I pulled out the na-na
Rolled off the bed then shot back, pa-pa
Blood on the sheets probably spillin' from my gash
Free Earl, uh.
Goddamn I love women
Daydream about penis being in 'em.
Meet them with a big grin,
With a MAC-10,
Rope, katana, and then I skin 'em.
Satan's getting jealous of the wolves, demons say they preferring us
Books on not giving a fuck, well they referring us (Wolf Gang)
Wolves I know you heard of us, we're murderers
And young enough to get the fucking priest to come and flirt with us
You niggas rap about fucking bitches and getting head
Instead I rap about fucking bitches and getting heads
While you niggas stacking bread, I could stack a couple dead
Bodies, making red look less of a color more of a hobby
I'm not a rapper nor a rapist nor a racist
I'm a f-ckin' walkin' paradox, no I'm not
Threesomes with a fuckin' triceratops, Reptar
Rappin' as I'm mockin' deaf rock stars
Wearin' synthetic wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks
Bedrock, harder than a muthaf-ckin' Flintstone
Makin' crack rocks outta pussy nigga fishbone
This nigga Jasper tryna get grown
About five-seven of his bitches in my bedroom
Swallow the cinnamon, I'mma scribble this sin and shit
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