Stains lyrics

by

Tyler, The Creator


Got bottles, got b*tches, got aim on you snitches
No time for fractious b*tches acting like a witness
Run, call it fitness
My di*k, thats the business
And it got that bigness
f*ck the cops, they piglets
I don't f*ck with thots, cause they f*cking witless
"What you talking about Willis? My b*tches got thickness,"
Hit that sh*t with swiftness, hit it than I ditch it

I stay flexing like a gymnast, I ain't stressing on the digits, I ain't stressing on the disses, I distress the clique like Christmas
Vicious b*tches... They come with quickness... Ima f*ck yo hoe and mistress

(yeah, uh, yeah)

And we do it everyday, all the time screaming: "f*ck b*tchES THAT HATE."
I've been moving forward, ya'll running in place, they just copy like stencils, they on me, they trace...

I say f*ck your head hoe, your teeth got some stains (x3)

You know I got bread hoe, you know that I bake (I bake)
I follow my goals, do not believe in fate
I see through these hoes, they just fake cellophane
They trying to copy, they wanna take my name
I get that Glock and I aim for they brains

I leave all against me deranged and insane
Don't try to run up on me, I'll leave you sank
I get myself money, I go to the bank (the bank)
You think that it's funny and you'll get de-ranked
I would f*ck your hoe, but her pus*y just stank
This life isn't free, gotta pay, gotta pay

(Yeah, pretty much)
(What do we do? What do we do? f*ck you...)

Yeah, and we do it everyday, all the time screaming: "f*ck b*tchES THAT HATE."
I've been moving forward, ya'll running in place, they just copy like stencils, they on me, they trace...

I say f*ck your head hoe, your teeth got some stains (x3)

And I don't f*ck with b*tches if they stank

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