I'm a fucking walking paradox,
no, I'm not
Threesomes with a fucking triceratops,
Reptar
Rapping as I'm mocking
deaf rock stars
Wearing synthetic wigs made of
Anwar's dreadlocks
Bedrock,
harder than a motherfucking Flintstone
Making crack rocks out of pussy
nigga fishbones
This nigga Jasper tryna get grown
About five,
seven of his bitches in my bedroom
Swallow the cinnamon,
I'm a scribble this sin and shit
While Syd is telling me that she's
been getting intimate with men
(Syd, shut the fuck up) Here's
the number to my therapist (shit)
You tell him all your problems,
he's fucking awesome with listening
Jesus called, he said he's sick of the disses I
told him to quit bitchin',
and this isn't a fucking hotline
For a fucking shrink,
sheesh, I already got mine
And he's not fucking working,
I think I'm wasting my damn time
I'm clocking three past
six and going postal
This the revenge of the dicks,
that's nine cocks that cock 9's
This ain't no V. Tech shit
or Columbine
But after bowling, I went home
for some damn Adventure Time
(What'd you do?) I slipped myself
some pink Xannies (yeah)
And danced around the house
in all-over print print panties
My mom's gone,
that fucking broad will never understand me
I'm not gay,
I just wanna boogie to some Marvin
(What you think of Hayley Williams?) Fuck her,
Wolf Haley robbing them
I'll crash that fucking airplane that
that faggot nigga B.o.B is in
And stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn
esophagus
And won't stop until the cops come in
I'm an over achiever,
so how about I start a team of leaders
And pick up Stevie Wonder
to be the wide receiver
Green paper,
gold teeth and pregnant golden retrievers
All I want, fuck money, diamonds and bitches,
don't need 'em
But where the fat ones at? I got
something to feed 'em
It's some cooking books,
the black kids never wanted to read 'em
Snap back, green ch-ch-chia fucking
fucking fucking leaves
It's been a couple months,
and Tina still ain't perm her fucking weave, damn
So I beat DeShay up with the stack
of magazines I'm in
Oh, not again,
another critic writing report
I'm stabbing any blogging faggot
hipster with a pitchfork
Still suicidal, I am
I'm Wolf, Tyler put this fuck
ing knife in my hand
I'm Wolf,
Ace gon' put that fucking hole in my head
And I'm Wolf,
that was me who shoved a cock in your bitch
(What the fuck,
man?) Fuck the fame and all the hype, G
I just want to know if my
father would ever like me
But I don't give a fuck,
so he's probably just like me
A motherfuckin' goblin
(Fuck everything,
man) That's what my conscience said
Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder,
now my conscience dead
Now the only guidance that I had
is splattered on cement
Actions speak louder than words,
let me try this shit
Dead