Yonkers (Live) lyrics

[Intro: Jasper]
Oh sh*t!
Yeah, put your hands up
This a hip-hop song right? Haha
f*ck Hip-Hop, yeah

[Verse 1]
I'm a f*ckin' walking paradox
No I'm not, threesomes with a f*ckin' triceratops
That reptar, rappin′ as I′m mockin' deaf rock stars
Wearin′ synthetic wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks
That bedrock, I'm harder than a muthaf*ckin′ Flintstone
I'm makin' crack rocks outta pus*y n*gga fishbones
This n*gga Jasper tryna get grown
About 5′7" of his b*tches in my bedroom
Swallow the cinnamon, I'mma scribble this sinnin' sh*t
While Syd is tellin′ me that she′s been gettin' intimate with men
(Syd, shut the f*ck up) Here′s the number to my therapist
(sh*t) Tell him all your problems, he's f*ckin′ awesome with listenin'

[Chorus]
It's the motherf*ckin' Golf Wang, Golf Wang
It's the Golf Wang, Golf Wang
It's thе Golf Wang, Golf Wang
It's the Golf (Wang), f*ckin' Golf (Wang)
It's the Golf (Wang), the Golf (Wang)
f*ckin' Golf Wang, thе Golf (Wang)
f*ck Golf (Wang)
Kill them
[Verse 2]
Jesus called me and said he′s sick of the disses
I told him to quit b*tchin', this isn't a f*ckin′ hotline
For a f*ckin′ shrink, faggot I already got mine
And he's not f*ckin′ workin', I think I′m wastin' my damn time
I′m clockin' three past six and goin' postal
This the revenge of the di*ks, that′s nine c*cks that c*ck nines
This ain′t no V Tech sh*t or Columbine
But after bowlin', I went home to some damn Adventure Time
(What′d you do?) I slipped myself some pink Zannies
And danced around the house in all-over print panties
My mom's gone, that f*ckin′ broad will never understand me
I'm not gay, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin
(What you think of Hayley Williams?) But f*ck her, Wolf Haley robbin′ 'em
I'll crash that f*ckin′ airplane that faggot n*gga B.o.B is in
And I will stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus
And I will not stop until the- (f*ck the police)
I'm an over acheiver, so how about I start a team of leaders
And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver
That's green paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrievers
All I want, f*ck money, diamonds and b*tches, don't need ′em
But where the fat ones at? I got somethin' to feed ′em
It's some cookin' books, the n*gga kids never wanted to read 'em
My Golf hat is green, ch-ch-chia f*ckin′ leaves
It′s been a couple months, and Tina still ain't perm her f*ckin′ weave, damn
[Outro]
It's the motherf*ckin' Golf Wang, Golf Wang
It's the Golf Wang, Golf Wang
It's the Golf Wang, Golf Wang
It's the Golf (Wang), the Golf (Wang)
It's the Golf (Wang), the Golf (Wang)
f*ck the Golf (Wang)
Kill them motherf*ckin' all
Odd Future
Odd Future
Odd Future