No Hook [V2]

[Intro]

Boogie!

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]

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