text: Im saying, you know, like. All I ever told you to do was grow up, dont grow down. You know, like, you know, grow up. Dont grow down, grow out. You go from being a kid, just doing your thing, hanging out with your friends. Months later youre world-famous. Youre a gay rights activist, and you dont even know it. You know what, I dont wanna say it to you no more, Tyler. Fuck you, Tyler!
  Watch me get this money, nigga; tired of being hungry, nigga
  Nothing funny, sass me while Im thrashing, Ima punch a nigga
  Never made of plastic, Im a savage -- you look lunch, my nigga
  Passing all you hating fucking fags we dont discuss, my nigga
  We aint on no jolly shit and we dont pop no Mollies, bitch
  Im hocking, spitting got some niggas out here popping Ollie switch
  Buncha novices, Odd Future the squad is thick
  Them young niggas is back and brash, attacking with no common sense
  We the last of a dying breed
  And we dont give a fuck, so we cannot supply your needs
  You stupid niggas who had said our hype is dying, please
  My pockets solid, making profit off the highest tees
  Bitch, merch twerk as I get on the verse, cursing
  Nigga Dom so cool, I refer him in third person
  Watch me get this money, Im up when the birds chirping
  Make actions, fuck rehearsing
  Nigga, summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five
  You niggas gon give me mine, I dont have plenty time
  Flying out at any time, getting money, any grind
  You niggas gon give me mine, you niggas gon give me mine
  Summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five
  You niggas gon give me mine, cause I dont have plenty time
  Flying out at any time, getting money, any grind
  You niggas gon give me mine, you niggas gon give me mine
  In a world where kids my age are popping Mollies with leather
  Sitting on Tumblr, never outside or enjoying the weather
  Can name a sweater, but not a talent or dont know if whether
  Or not they got one, tried to change their life for the better
  I was the drama club kid, I run where the fun did, my nuts itched
  I was defiant, always said, Fuck shit
  Hated the popular ones, now Im the popular one
  Also hated homes too, til I start coppin me some
  See I dont beez in the trap, nigga, I beez in the bs
  And I be gassing up my buzz like some bees at a Shell
  Fucking sick and getting bigger like I sneezed on Adele
  And bitches getting touchy-feely like they reading some Braille
  I bust quick like gun-holders with short tempers, and well
  I tried to tell the kids, like fuck it, start being yourself
  These fucking rappers got stylists cause they cant think for themselves
  See, they dont have an identity, so they needed some help, but
  Really, boy? Posers looking silly, boy
  Im in that past season Preme shit, older than Tity Boi
  Not a diss, but same with ice cream, my shit is Diddy Riese
  Nakel Smith, Transworld page 64
  Poppin like oil ollie in fire flames
  Im harder than DJ Khaled playing the fucking quiet game
  The fuck am I saying? Tylers not even a violent name
  About as threatening as stained windbreakers in hurricanes
  But he rapes women, and spit wrong, like he hates dentists
  God damn menace, 666 and hes not finished
  And my shits missing, he hates women, but love kittens?
  See yall niggas tripping, man
  Look at that article that says my subject matter is wrong
  Saying I hate gays even though Frank is on 10 of my songs
  Look at that Mom who thinks Im evil, hold that grudge against me
  Though Im the reason that her motherfucking son got to eat
  Look at the kid who had the .9 and tried to blow out his mind
  But talk is money, I said, Hi, I guess I bought him some time
  Look at the ones in the crowd -- that shit is barnacles, huh?
  They thought I wasnt fair until I threw a carnival, huh?
  But then again, Im an atheist that just worships Satan
  And its probably why Im not getting no fucking album placements
  And MTV could suck my dick, and I aint fuckin playing
  Bruh, they never played it, I just won shit for they fucking ratings
  Analog fans are getting sick of the rape
  All the Tron Cat fans are getting sick of the lakes
  But what about me, bitch? Im getting sick of complaints
  But I dont hate it when Im taking daily trips to the bank
  Oh but no but, shit, who really gives a fuck what I think?
  My fans dont, they turning on me, shit, theyre almost extinct
  Fuck buying studio time, Ima go purchase a shrink
  Record the session and send all you motherfuckers a link, bitch
  Nigga, summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five
  You niggas gon give me mine, I dont have plenty time
  Flying out at any time, getting money, any grind
  You niggas gon give me mine, you niggas gon give me mine
  Summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five
  You niggas gon give me mine, I dont have plenty time
  Flying out at any time, getting money, any grind
  You niggas gon give me mine, you niggas gon give me mine
  This shit just like the nights I look forward to not remembering
  So much for being sober, I hope that you can forgive me
  But Momma, Im close to the edge as possible 
  All I’m seeing is the drop in my ocular, jumping like they told me
  That the 40s half off, like you know that cliff
  Dont need a therapist to tell him he could float that shit 
  Or get compared to fucking pair with all the program kids
  So maybe a pair of pale bitches for the gonads lick 
  Malt liquor filling me up, and all us not giving no fucks and
  All of them sensitive chumps in awe when that pistol erupts 
  Dirty one spitting that sumpy raw till his wrists in the cuffs
  Brother the Pigeons is us
  Bid you goodnight and good luck
  Samuels here! Wheres Wolf? Fucking faggot. Salem was mine, bitch! Was that good enough, you fucking pussy?