French!

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]

Got all the black bitches mad 'cause my main bitch vanilla

She tryna get her groove back like Stella, grab the umbrella

When it comes to your perception of my shit, I'm Helen Keller

When it comes to the perfection of my shit, I know you smell the

Rectum, I'm like a chromosome, I always X 'em

Like Wolverine's stepson, attacking a deadly weapon

I'm opening a church to sell coke and Led Zeppelin

And fuck Mary in her ass—Haha, yo

I'm fucking Goldilocks up in the forest

In the three-bear house, eating they motherfucking porridge

I tell her it's my house, give her a tour in my basement

And keep that bitch locked up in my storage

Rape her and record it, then edit it with more shit

Octopussy, special effect, direct

Bitches, we banging, and please never disrespect my set

With Canons hanging from our necks like it's a motherfucking circus

[Chorus: Hodgy, Tyler, The Creator & Both]

You little niggas better check my French (My French)

Ugh, you getting money? Better check my French (My French)

Uh, what time is it, huh? check my French (My French)

If you got my shit, you better check my French (Motherfucker!)

I'm making moves, sh— check my French (My French)

I speak English, but check my French (My French)

Your ho be on my penis, she check my French

Bitch!

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator & Hodgy]

I guess I left my dignity up in the cupboard

'Cause every girl I'm digging

When I'm digging in her pussy, I'm never using (A rubber)

But fuck it, I guess I gotta stretch it out like it was flubber

And leave it dripping green and red like double cheeseburgers

Chewing on cum like bubblegum from Hubba

This bitch knew dick like Bubba knew shrimp (Hahahaha)

Yeah

Yo, I'm seventeen, already sniffing blow

I tell my friends it's asthma every time I start to itch my throat

I got a new show for MTV: "Pimp My Boat"

Because some bitch said my semen was dirty, that silly ho

The most that they can do is fine me

I'm hiding, somewhere where Chris Stokes can't find me

"Oh no, Mr. Stokes, I don't like misters, no"

Don't tell R. Kelly where my little sister go

[Chorus: Hodgy, Tyler, The Creator & Both]

You little niggas better check my French (My French)

Ugh, you getting money? Better check my French (My French)

Uh, what time is it, huh? check my French (My French)

If you got my shit, you better check my French (Motherfucker!)

I'm making moves, sh— check my French (My French)

I speak English, but check my French (My French)

Your ho be on my penis, she check my French

Bitch!

[Verse 3: Hodgy]

Yo, you little niggas better check my French

I got all-stars, and you can check my bench

Left Brain, Super 3, Creator Ace

Put expressions in the music and create the face

Of the picture—punchline, figured out, "Ahh, I get you"

No, you don't, nigga, so why don't you go'n' figure?

You seem confused anyway, pressured enough?

You the type to do the choke when the pressure is up

The pressure is the pump, and the pressure is us

Bitches having eargasms, and the pleasure is us

Niggas wanna be O.F. and write letters to us

Competition's competition, yo, you better than us?

Digest what I'm saying? I don't think so

We sick shit, throw it up down in the sink, yo

These Odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink flows

We think sorta odd, so we think so

[Verse 4: Tyler, The Creator]

Crusing in my go-kart at Walmart selling cupcakes

Go 'head, admit it, faggot, this shit is tighter than butt rape

That involve Ballpark Franks and silver duct tape

Pornos, some hormones, and boxes of DiGiorno

You homos is loco, you probably drinking Cuervo

With some vatos, with the door closed, watching "Zorro"

You homos

[Outro: Tyler, The Creator & Tyler, The Creator as Dr. TC]

O.F.

Yes

So, are you dating anyone right now? You know, or...

No, I'm— I'm just playing the field, you know?

Ah, so... I'm guessing she's white, since she's "vanilla"

Haha