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Correct Jamba Lyrics
Lyrics
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Artists: T
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Tyler, The Creator
►
Correct Jamba
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Song:
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Lyrics:
(Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator) Papa ain’t call even though he saw me on T. V., it’s all good, (fuck You) But now my balls balls deep in this broads jaws, swallow girl, it’s just nut Bitches scared to let me smash on they ass Yeah they heard I’m fuckin’ nuts like the swag of a fag Like me and Tekeli was gagging in the back of the cabin Camp Floggnaw nigga you can tell by the badge (G, pass me my inhaler) I’m sick of hacking and coughing, I’m often this fucking awesome I’m animals, Noah’s arking, and often this rapping nonsense Four stories in my home like “What the fuck’s an apartment?” Get shit popping like Peter’s pores during puberty And take bets on how quickly Tyler can reach maturity Cussing out Siri like a waitress with no patience Oh, you want a tip bitch, well here’s my dick for gratiturity, bitch (Hook: Tyler, the Creator) Shut Him Down! You Gotta Shut Him Down! Shut Him Down! [Verse 2: Hodgy Beats) I tumble crush on hudgy s***s, give money up then nutty, but Professor Nutty Buddy Clumpkin’s petty when you touch his lunch Like “What the fuck? I’m drunk as fuck, ” turn the fucking music up So I can hear these stupid fucks, talk no walk, like you discussed You talking too much, “Who the fuck are you to us, uterus?” I put that on my pubes and nuts, if I don’t begin moving up, I’m shooting up You and her, crew on turf, new dessert I can see the bitch in a nigga through his shirt I can smell the ho in the bitch flocking ’round my crew to flirt It’s on your shoulder, lose the dirt, yeah, it’s the movement first Fuck a human nurse, I’m I'll like uses earth, to infuse the birth Of my scrotum on the Channel 10 news, my only motive is to skip to my lou Get hit to the pube, you can drink piss and eat a dick in a few The sickening view, a visual woose, I eat your ribs, I’m a wolf Then meet your kids afterschool and give ‘em drugs cause it’s cool (Fucker) (Hook: Tyler, the Creator) Shut Him Down! You Gotta Shut Him Down! Shut Him Down! [Verse 3: Tyler, the Creator) Hodgy, fuck this beat, nigga let’s smoke weed That shit I need, be the shit that’s green, a little purple and pink Get some swisher sweets, about three up, four more, then leave it be I got a eigth I could face, I got a blunt flavored grape I hate the grape I can taste it when I’m inhaling the vapes You can smell us in places when we walk And our clothing is always covered in flakes Enough for two shake blunts and “What the fuck is this?” I think this mary is laced, My heart is beating at paces that Pacquiao can relate I’m fucking faded like gradient Shit I’m stuck like the tape that’s superglued To the center of Kelly Price first waist. It’s like my first date with Mrs. Mary, this shit is scary The paranoia from this marijuana is very heavy, I’m lifted Fainted by my fifth hit, Lionel pass the sherm Let’s use this Philly as a dipstick for this bath salt, you dipshit
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