Yonkers

Uh, Wolf Haley, Golf Wang, go
 I'm a fucking walking paradox
 No, I'm not, threesomes with a fucking triceratops
 Reptar, rapping as I'm mocking deaf rock stars
 Wearing synthetic wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks
 Bedrock, harder than a motherfucking Flintstone
 Making crack rocks outta pussy nigga fishbones
 This nigga Jasper trying to get grown
 About 5'7" of his bitches in my bedroom
 Swallow the cinnamon, I'mma scribble this sin and shit
 While Syd is telling me that she's been getting intimate with men
 (Syd, shut the fuck up) here's the number to my therapist
 (Shit) you tell him all your problems, he's fucking awesome with listening
 Uh, Wolf Haley, uh, Golf Wang
 Uh, Wolf Haley, Golf fucking Wang
 Jesus called, he said he's sick of the disses
 I told him to quit bitching, this isn't a fucking hotline
 For a fucking shrink, sheesh, I already got mine
 And he's not fucking working, I think I'm wasting my damn time
 I'm clocking three past six and going postal
 This the revenge of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock 9's
 This ain't no V. Tech shit or Columbine
 But after bowling, I went home for some damn Adventure Time
 (What'd you do?) I slipped myself some pink Xannies
 And danced around the house in all-over print panties
 My mom's gone, that fucking broad will never understand me
 I'm not gay, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin
 (What you think of Hayley Williams?) Fuck her, Wolf Haley robbing 'em
 I'll crash that fucking airplane that that faggot nigga B.o.B is in
 And stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus
 And won't stop until the cops come in
 I'm an overachiever, so how about I start a team of leaders
 And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver?
 Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant golden retrievers
 All I want, fuck money, diamonds and bitches, don't need them
 But where the fat ones at? I got something to feed 'em
 It's some cooking books, the black kids never wanted to read 'em
 Snap back, green ch-ch-chia fucking leaves
 It's been a couple months, and Tina still ain't perm her fucking weave, damn
 Uh, Wolf Haley, uh, Golf Wang
 Uh, Wolf Haley, Golf Wang, yeah
 Goddamn goblin
 Wolf Haley, uh, Golf Wang
 Uh, Wolf Haley, Golf Wang, yeah
 They say success is the best revenge
 So I beat DeShay up with the stack of magazines I'm in
 Oh, not again! Another critic writing report
 I'm stabbing any blogging faggot hipster with a Pitchfork
 Still suicidal I am
 I'm Wolf, Tyler put this fucking knife in my hand
 I'm Wolf, Ace gon' put that fucking hole in my head
 And I'm Wolf, that was me who shoved the cock in your bitch
 (What the fuck, man?) Fuck the fame and all the hype, G
 I just want to know if my father would ever like me
 But I don't give a fuck, so he's probably just like me
 A motherfuckin' Goblin
 (Fuck everything, man) that's what my conscience said
 Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead
 Now the only guidance that I had is splattered on cement
 Actions speak louder than words, let me try this shit
 ♪
 Dead