Slater - Instrumental

Lyrics for Slater - Instrumental

Me and Slater just hit a curb Bunnyhop, zoning out, listening to N.E.r.d. (Star Trak) Made a couple thousand turds spitting written verbs Shit (what?), Now I kick it in the 'burbs Me? I'm from the slums, niggas who push a ton Ton of drums, with foul flow, dirty mouth, like kissing bums Mama done made her one, um, a witty son With no respect for women, so show me your titties, hun (what?) You eighteen? Me? I'm twenty-somethin' Okay, I'm twenty, but I'm soon to be twenty-one I wild out at shows, break shit, it should be fun Venues are like pussy with me, "Should he come?" I'ma wax that like the chapstick in my backpack for my black lips Then dip to Europe and come back with a stack of cheese A stack of cheese for these rats, um, that mac and cheese New 'Preme shit got me feeling flyer than a bag of bees Fuck critics (how's your dick?) Shit, how's your knees? Y'all on my dick more than my index when I take a pee (damn) I came up with Rella, ain't touch a bag of weed (word?) Shit was doper than Whitney Houston's needs Golf Wang, that's the team to be, ayy Getting T.U., O.F., indeed We was missing Sweatshirt, like, "Where's the hooded sleeve?" Okay, never mind, we found him, yeah Me and Slater just hit a curb Bunnyhop, zoning out, listening to N.E.r.d. Made a couple thousand turds spitting written verbs Shit, now I kick it in the 'burbs Guess I win, checks started cashing in I stop rapping and start asking where my fucking passion is Probably where that faggot went (who?) Tyler talking father problems Shocking shit, he spit to popping topics in them gossip columns Damn, I ain't ask for this (what?) I did it out of boredom (uh) Thought that roach was cool, he died and pushed me into stardom Now, Ye's, PJs, sipping leche Chips Ahoy, boy, listening to Cowboy, ayy Boy, land in Melbourne and skate to Fitzroy, ayy Aus' was awes', I enjoyed, boy Y'all niggas played as a tot's toy Have a good day as I annoy, oi Me and Slater just hit a curb Bunnyhop, zoning out, listening to N.E.r.d. Made a couple thousand turds spitting written verbs Shit, now I kick it in the 'burbs Canons with panorama views My shoes that seen more vans than Mexicanas Or crackers in Alabama G-o-to-the-l-f, this OF I opened up a store so I don't stress But, nigga, I (what?) Mosh in gardens Jazz punk shit, playing chords Making up shit, pardon my Dolly Partons And I keep shartin' Hoodies with rectangles and different colors Niggas think I started kindergarten My bitch is on my handlebars I just wanna ride my bike Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater My bitch is on my handlebars Hair blowing in the wind Her freckles look like candy bars Hair blowing in the wind My bitch is on my handlebars I just wanna ride my bike Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater My bitch is on my handlebars (handlebars) Hair blowing in the wind Her freckles look like candy bars (shit) My cool summer never ends (cool) My bitch is on my handlebars Yeah (bars, bars) Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater (oh, my God) Seriously? Mr. Cool Guy You're talking to a fucking bike, loser Oh, fuck