Lyrics:

[Hook: Tyler, The Creator]
Me and Slater just hit a curb
Bunny hop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D
Made a couple thousands turds spitting written verbs
Shit, now I kick it in the 'burbs

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
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
Uhm, a witty son
With no respect for women, so show me your titties hun
(What?) You eighteen?
Me? I'm twenty-something
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'mma 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
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
Came up with ''Rella'', ain't touch a bag of weed
Shit was doper than Whitney Houston's needs
Golf Wang
That's the team to be, ay
Getting T.U
O.F., indeed
We was missing Sweatshirt like
'Where's the hooded sleeve?'
Okay, nevermind, we found him

[Hook]
Me and Slater just hit a curb
Bunny hop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D
Made a couple thousands turds spitting written verbs
Shit, now I kick it in the 'burbs

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
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
I ain't ask for this, I did it out of boredom
Thought that roach was cool
He died and pushed me into stardom
Now Ye's, PJs
Sipping leche
Chips Ahoy, boy
Listening to Cowboy, ay boy
Land in Melbourne and skate to Fitzroy (Ay!)
AUS was AWES, I enjoyed, boy
Y'all niggas played as a tot's toy
Have a good day as I annoy, oi

[Hook]
Me and Slater just hit a curb
Bunny hop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D
Made a couple thousands turds spitting written verbs
Shit, now I kick it in the 'burbs

[Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator]
Cameras with panorama
Views
My shoes
Have seen more Vans than Mexicanas
Or crackers in Alabama
G-O-to-the-L-F
This O.F
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 sharting
Hoodies with rectangles and different colors
Niggas think I started kindergarten

[Interlude: Tyler, The Creator (Frank Ocean)]
My bitch is on my handle bars
(I just wanna ride my bike)
Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater
My bitch is on my handle bars
Hair blowing in the wind
Her freckles look like candy bars
Hair blowing in the wind
My bitch is on my handle bars
(I just wanna ride my bike)
Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater
My bitch is on my handle bars
Hair blowing in the wind
Her freckles look like candy bars
My cool summer never ends
Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater

[Outro: Frank Ocean]
Oh my God, seriously?
Mister cool guy
You're talking to a fucking bike, loser
Ha ha, Ohh... Fuck