Video I Killed You Test Pressing Version de Tyler The Creator 2024 Rap Lyrics

Tyler The Creator - I Killed You Test Pressing Version Lyrics

[Intro: Tyler, The Creator]
Your new hot comb go 'round and 'round (Go)
Your new blowout go 'round and 'round (Pick it out)
The 360 waves go 'round and 'round (Go)
The grease addin' up, it go 'round and 'round

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
I gotta work, I gotta eat
If they see you on top of me, I gotta leave
Bitch, I killed you
Your natural state is threatening
To the point that I point at myself and self-esteem
Bitch, I killed you
No findin' out a couple knots was a map
We escapin', them routes right on the scalp
Bitch, I killed you
Takin' you out, it's not a game
Feel ashamed, so we straightened you out without a doubt
Bitch, I killed you, you are so essential
How we used to pick you 'cause you was a symbol
Berries and oils, your nature was so simple
But I guess the coils and kinks became an issue
Therefore, bitch, I killed you, Jheris and Mimis (Mimis)
I burnt you, I cut you, I filled you up with chemis (Chemis)
Forced you to relax, you was thick, you was BB
Couldn't take the heat, so you gone when they see me now
Yeah, bitch, I killed you
Aunties, grandmas, sisters, mamas, darker-skinneded women's conscience
Got you, bitch, they killed you
Uncles, daddies, brothers, sons cut by one, the shit begun early
Bitch, they killed you
Mentally stuck, I couldn't see, when you breathe (I couldn't see)
Thought I needed a cut, it fucked me up (It fucked me up)
Bitch, I killed you
We don't got advantages, we don't match they images
So it led to damages, ah, I had to kill you
I gotta work, I gotta eat
If they see you on top of me, then I'm at peace
Bitch, I killed you
You are my crown, without the grease, really fine
Got the kinks in they mind they gotta ease
Bitch, I killed you
Gravity defy, against the elements
Call you fragile? I say you delicate
You the room, baby, they the motherfuckin' elephant
Talkin' 'bout my heritage
I could never kill you
[Interlude: Tyler, The Creator]
(Go away)
(Pick it out)
(Go, go)
Comb that shit (Go, pick it out)
You need to pick that shit out, bitch (Away, pick it out)
Yeah, yeah (Away, pick it out)

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
Trapped in the back, aw (Where they at?)
Type three, is it type four? (Where they at?)
Fuck it, get down, this is my crown (Where they at?)
You got kinks in your mind, boy (Where they at?)

[Outro: Childish Gambino]
(Ooh, ooh)
Dum, dum (Ooh), dum, dum
Dum, dum, dum, dum, dum (Ooh)