Sam (Is Dead) lyrics

by

Domo Genesis


[Intro: Tyler, the Creator]
f*ck Steve Harvey

[Verse 1: Domo Genesis]
This life is a game if you wanna play, counting all your old mistakes
Living it with no delay, so fast I'm getting growing pains
Father didn't show me my instincts to take the open lane
I go insane, all these problems comin' with my growing age
Blowing haze, tryna clear the doubt that's sitting on my brain
I don't complain but the kid inside me's feeling so restrained
Gotta stay gold and let desire rekindle the flame
Searching for the Fountain of Youth when I'm freein' my brain

[Chorus: Tyler, The Creator]
Bring in the horns, you hear that f*cking brass?
That's little boy n*gga with the trumpets
Marching with the bandwagon, looking for his heart
No sleeve, but his hand carry muskets
Lurking in the meadows, oblivion
Motherf*ck Geppetto, he's a leader, not a puppet
Some professors nuttier than Klump's di*k
So think before you blink and aye-aye make assumptions

[Refrain]
(n*ggas!)
Your left, your left, your left, right left
(n*ggas is coming!)
Your left, your left, your left, right left
(n*ggas!)
Your left, your left, your left, right left
(n*ggas is coming!)
Your left, your left, your left, right left
[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
They want a story, a story I write the sh*t that I find
Very amusing, 'cause all of they f*cking stories are boring
It's really awkward to know that a bunch of kids do adore me
It's like I fathered these f*ckers, so you won't find me on Maury
I'm still a kid in my heart so I have a problem maturing
But it will come from experiences and sh*t I see touring
I'm like a bird when I'm soaring, really high
And I'm really horny, from watching this porn, nope, but

[Chorus: Tyler, The Creator]
Bring in the horns, you hear that f*cking brass?
That's little boy n*gga with the trumpets
Marching with the bandwagon, looking for his heart
No sleeve, but his hand carry muskets
Lurking in the meadows, oblivion
Motherf*ck Geppetto, he's a leader, not a puppet
Some professors nuttier than Klump's di*k
So think before you blink and aye-aye make assumptions

[Refrain]
(n*ggas!)
Your left, your left, your left, right left
(n*ggas is coming!)
Your left, your left, your left, right left
(n*ggas!)
Your left, your left, your left, right left
(n*ggas is coming!)
Your left, your left, your left, right left

[Interlude]
5, 4, 3, 2, and where's Tyler?

[Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator]
Bottom of the countdown, sh*t ain't been the same
Since I found out Hodgy Beats ghost wrote for Bow Wow
Now I’m the loud, shock value style, foul-mouth f*cker
That your teenage kid likes to bow down
Riding around town in Seattle
With the same shotgun that Kurt used to click-clack, boom-pow
Still suicidal but some assume that I'm cool now
'Cause I got a f*cking award and my own room now
Nope, but I can flip sh*t like a couch pillow
And have my death silent like a loose vowel
The bandwagon turned into caboose, so
So, don't let that little n*gga trumpet lose sound
Just let him play
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