Jack And The Beanstalk

[Intro: JAY-Z] They don't, paint pictures, they just, trace me [Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator & JAY-Z] Odd Future, I'm your motherfucking sergeant Nigga, I'm in charge, I fuck with Freshjive 'Cause I get it, no charge And BBC for the low price, no barging, nigga that's a bargain Cow-print t-shirt like motherfucking dog On the motherfucking farm with cockadoodle doodles I'm making straight bitches pussy wet just like a noodle And my dick must be dog food to these bitches' poodles Felines on the free time, I'm tossing bitches' salads And I'm eating up they croutons, Erica to Milan We was flying to Milan, was supposed to go to Bangkok Until she figured out that she don't really like to bang cock To Soho, Baby Milo so dope The cocaine flow, niggas spit heat, propane Niggas get the picture, I see, why? They don't paint pictures, they just trace me [Hook: Tyler, The Creator & JAY-Z] My nigga, no hook, and They don't, paint pictures— My nigga, no hook, and They don't, paint pictures— My nigga, no hook They don't, paint pictures— My nigga, no hook They don't, paint pictures— No hook They don't, paint pictures— Fuck a hook, man They don't, paint pictures— Fuck a hook They don't, paint pictures, they just, trace me [Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator] Yo, beside me, nobody likes me Mainly because I am not a fucking HypeBeast I think Supreme suck, we nollie all our Nikes I can wear some Wranglers, with a fucking White T Doo-rags to match, and I do sag, in fact My hat is in tact with the Fubu pull over Nigga, you pull over, fuck a Rover Range And I'm driving a unicorn, plus my bitch is strange And I'm the only fucking rapper without a chain With a four-finger ring like I can't spell my fucking name And I go to Obama rallies screaming out "McCain" Them ignorant, thrashing motherfuckers is my gang And the dirty Ladera, I can't forget where I came from Nigga, you don't claim none, from, I am the teacher White and black bitch like she's a motherfucking zebra Candies in my pocket, I see you niggas on Easter [Hook: Tyler, The Creator & JAY-Z] My nigga, no hook, and They don't, paint pictures— My nigga, no hook, and They don't, paint pictures— My nigga, no hook They don't, paint pictures— No hook, and They don't, paint pictures— No hook They don't, paint pictures— No hook They don't, paint pictures— No hook They don't, paint pictures, they just, trace me [Bridge: Tyler, The Creator] (It's gold) The gold is in the back (It's gold) The pixels in the front (It's gold) The beat's a fucking bully (Go home) The lyric's just a punk, and (Gold) The pink is in the sky (That shit's gold) The gold is in my mind (It's gold) The mind is in my gold The beat is turning old, so go (Yo—yo) [Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator] (Gold) Synthesizer, I'm the mothafucking master (It's gold) Nigga, I'm a bastard, I fuck with chord keys (Gold) 'Cause the sound lasts longer, bass drum is longer (It's gold) Than a hi-hat made of plastic, nigga, sound is elastic (Gold) Nigga, you can't bite this, unless you want to bite back (It's gold) I didn't take my fucking Rit'lin, this is a hype track (Gold) HypeTrak, that synth, nigga this is sax shit I had you motherfuckers eating salad like a fat bitch [Break: Tyler, The Creator] Gold Um... (Aight) Uh... Drop it [Outro: Tyler, The Creator] Ace the Creator O.F.M Banging on your FM Ace the Creator Drop the drums, nigga Thank you to HypeBeast