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Tyler, The Creator – OKRA Lyrics
And let it go (Ayo)
I cut off some friends, where they go
(Did this shit in one take, ayo)
I stick to the plan, that’s the goal (ayy we got that fire shit nigga)
Fuck these niggas man (run it)
Paintjob look like ashy ankles on Django, interior look mango
Shotgun grape, he look like mayo
Golden voice on payroll, neck all gold like Kayo Corp
We aim at dorks, get out the way, yo
Keep them bucks in banks like Yayo
Swampy niggas out the bayou, pockets flooded y’all be dilute
Watered down, I’m Big Mac
I’m quarter pound, you chicken nugget
Fuck it, travel bag Balenciaga, 30,000 just for luggage
Financial advisor buggin’, Flower Boy is buzzin’
Grammy-nominated, tell yo cousin ain’t nobody fuckin’ with him [Chorus] Man, now they go
I cut off some friends, where they go
I stick to the plan, that’s the goal
Fuck these niggas man, that’s for sure (say)
Uno the shoe, red with the blue
Look like a flag what the fuck it do
Golf be the set, no more OF
Like Ron Artest bitch we aim for your neck
Give a fuck about you or your respect, yeah that way
Fuck your accolades but I made the cut like I pack a blade
You could call me brush, I’ve been makin’ waves
Since Ashley Banks’ cousin had a fade but that’s ’92, I’m ’91
Watts Riot in my blood, nigga what’s up
And that pussy pink like the drink in my cup
Lemonade, yeah it’s Minute Maid, I been gettin’ paid
Pockets gainin’ weight
Your bank statements on Mary Kate, but that’s up to you
(I ain’t fuckin’ with none of these niggas, man)
I cut off some friends, where they go
(Yeah, give these niggas information nigga)
I stick to the plan, that’s the goal
(Now we never fuckin’ stop)
Fuck these (ayo) niggas man, that’s for sure (ayo) [Verse 3] Tell Tim Chalamet to come get at me
Skin glowin’, clear of acne
Diamonds see-through, so holographic
Red Ones look like Aidan Mackey, spent dinero like Taxi Driver
Handmade is that thing with tires but I rode the bike
And Vill tail behind me
And he got the Cannon like he bagged Mariah
Yeah, we straight but if you wrinkle up the situation
He will go grab the iron and he do what I says like Simon (no violence)
And my bitch mixed like jambalaya
Man fuck with the fam, we in Japan
Bitch you’re a bum, see you don’t understand
Yeah, I cut off some friends T, where you been?
Bitch I’m in Bel-Air, been lookin’ for land
Need a spot in the hills, not the beach, need a pool
Just to cool it, I do need the grass, not the sand
Got enough rocks, see, check my hand
And I got crack, watch how I talk
And it’s still Wolf Gang, bitch, watch how I bark
Wallace still trippin’ on shit that I bought
But, I really do not care the cost ’cause okra
Man, now they go
I cut off some friends
