Fickle Friends ☆ Fickle Friends – Swim

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
It’s the fucking general, Vans cut shorts
Neck covered in colored emerald, the yellow by the blue
Like I pissed inside your swimming pool, I’m Mr. Made-A-Bundle
Fuck being rapper and lyrical, here’s a ticket to carnival
Barnacles, now I gotta brag
Beemer drive right by you niggas like I was kinda fat
With a paint job thats flatter than Miley Cyrus ass
Ludicrous niggas is hoping that rapper Tyler crash
I see a victim, call the fucking doctors
I’m starting to see symptoms, faggot getting sick again
Fucker get a syringe and a prayer from all your friends
That are actors that do not have to pretend with me if they see blood
Cuz, red and blue like what the fuck’s popping?
I’m the blackface of white America, a noose in my pocket
Everyone’s dumb or either dead, so you do not have an option
So I’m sorry Martian and activist I’m bout to tie knots with
And ain’t no one gonna stop shit, I wanna find my pops
Locking lips with a hot locksmith, find out I was adopted
By chimps and a hippopotamus, Tyler’s a fucking animal
When he spit, he goes ape shit, so it technically makes sense

[Verse 2: Hodgy Beats]
Nobody ever told me that I spill more than I drink
I didn’t know that, I didn’t know that I didn’t know
Allen meeting and greeting boy fickle
Cucumber turn pickle, nigga, nickel by my cellular sickle
Exchange phrases from heroin addicts pistol arms
Niggas go to the drug dealer like bristol farm when it get it its gone
Seated next to Chunky’s
 hands fidget marmoset monkeys

This ain’t where I’m supposed to be at

How am I supposed to react when somebody here test my nervous

I’m clean and sober
and still got a lot on my mind that I’m getting over
 only getting older

snow and slush is colder

Love don’t get you on the bus free rides are in the Rover

Where tear drops wet on my shoulder

Started hitting bars
 whiskey style shit

You know a young nigga always finding new outlets

Mentally I’m just crowded,but shit I guess it’s time to change my outfit

[Verse 3: Domo Genesis]
Live from the gutter
 young stunner
 Trumps what you niggas blundered

I uppercut by the bundle
 Nigga take a number

By my butter nNever let them suckers take me under

Cold like I hate the summer
? you ungrateful son of a bitch

I gave less a fuck and I struck it rich, 
suck my dick

Tell the world that I’m coming, don’t fucking spit

Bump your lips
, guess you really ain’t sure who you fucking with

You won’t find me on no office shit 
I’m semi auto off this shit
My whole approach is arsonic no party be cautious with
 my partners on some raunchy shit

You better use your conscious quick

I swear my whole demeanor all fucked up

Shitting everywhere like I had a meal off the lunch truck

Dumb fuck
 come one one it and get your mug bucked

Love what? 
No love for these hoes we only love lust

Inhale that marijuana until my lungs bust

Still out for blood when the suns up

[Verse 4: Earl Sweatshirt]
Fuck what you talking ’bout, nigga, got a Tyler reputation
Just from chalking out niggas and bagging ‘em up
Dickies baggy, sagging off my ass, abandoned the cuffs
And Wang syndicates the color of the ambulance trucks
Blunt got a nigga feeling like I’m standing on my head
Wolf pack back up out the shit, foaming at the mouth
Got these bitches lip-locking, britches soggy on the couch
Talking shit, bringing profit in and bodies in to count
I told myself just to walk and let the rumours run
Blue golf overalls, jump when them Goombas come
This the fucking sound of chickens coming home and roosting up
The rudest one, make a nigga take a nigga jewels and run
Hand full of cash, other hand full of homes to feed
Who exactly am I supposed to please?
And nigga, who the fuck you supposed to be? Four-five traffic blasting
Tyler pissy cause I’m action on his momma Rover seat
He lied to the substance, impair the judgement
Sticking to the script, thumb sticking to that pump grip
Wolf Gang nigga