Letra de "SAFARI" por Tyler, The Creator | Disfruta la mejor música online

Descubre la letra completa de "SAFARI", interpretada por Tyler, The Creator. En nuestra plataforma, no solo podrás disfrutar de esta canción, sino que también encontrarás una amplia colección de letras y videos de tus artistas favoritos. Explora más sobre Tyler, The Creator y muchas otras canciones que están marcando tendencia. ¡Todo en un solo lugar y completamente gratis!

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SAFARI

Tyler, The Creator

Destination: Remote
We been everywhere
Only thing we ain't traveled
Is time

The boy records smell like bleach
I could travel where I want
I'm accustomed, clean, custom
It ain't custom, I don't come
Flee the bird to the truck
I scroll every water to stewardess
Border control, that's some stupid shit
Stayin' at home, I hate
Runaway love but I'm no Ludacris
Sippin' on mint tea, take my shoes off
Then we take off then I snooze off
Until I land, know I'm four grand
And I wake up, have to droop off
Got my passport in my weak hand
I'ma peel off, get a sweet tan
Loafers filled with beach sand
We climb till we find the peace sign
Fuck all the checks from the calls, get a passport
See the world, open your eyes till your back hurt
Niggas get bread and won't leave, shit is backwards
Start with your feet then I caught in an ample
Get our your bubble-gum
Blow up horizons, Sun
Sled in the Alps or go to a Missoula
Or two in Japan, I go scuba in Cuba
Or land in a borough, Gerard got the Brio
She bought it in Como, it matches my peacoat
Oversee the sea, all the things that you could see
Like them languages I speak, out in Paris for a week
Take my nephews out to Nice, they like, who?, I'm like, me
Hah

Legendary (find me)
World-renowned
Globally recognized
Catch us if you can (baby, you should find me)
Are you keepin' up? (Find)
Once in a lifetime (baby, you should find me)
This what it sounds like when the Moon and the Sun collide
Speakin' matter-factly (baby, you should find me)
We're just lightyears ahead
Yeah

Every car retarded, the garage look like a loony bin
What coupe he in depends on the fit and the type of mood he in
I been switchin' gears since Tracee Ellis Ross was UPN
Clutched then he stroked, got to know her like a droopy grin
Huh, took that GRAMMY home, couldn't lose again
The suit was so sharp that it could get Medusa coochie trim
Hov talkin' 'bout a hundred million, nigga, loot me in
Like who that young, rich, handsome nigga with the gooey skin?
Mama named him Tyler and his brothers call him T
And the bank, they call him when that wire clear like season three or somethin'
Skateboard named him Bunnyhop, it's Baudelaire Wolfie though
The felines name him Al for how long he eat the (pussy) wait a minute
Pink loafer scuff quickly, FI cost a buck sixty
I'll keep it a buck fifty, y'all can't really fuck with me
Bitch, I got the fuzz and I'ma own it till they bury him
Only twenty-nine but I've been focused since thirty M
Wolf

Call me if you get lost (Gangsta Grillz)
And like that
We gone

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