Tamale

Tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale!
 They say I've calmed down since the last album
 Well, lick my dick, how does that sound? Um
 Smell my gooch, you could kiss my buns
 And I don't give a shit, bend my rectum
 Somebody said bands make her dance
 You think you're getting cash, no bitch, you're dumb
 The only thing that you're gonna get is this dick
 Wait, turn this up, bitch, this my jam (where the drums at?)
 Here, take a goddamn picture
 And tell Spike Lee he's a goddamn nigger
 And while you're at it, pass the lotion
 And fapping and Xbox Live, that fun
 Before I cum, I call your sister
 When she comes over, I take picture
 Instantly put it on Instagram and suplex her off a building if I get banned
 Tamale, ah! Tamale, ah! Tamale, ah! Tamale!
 Why y'all so salty? Hot tamale is on
 A can of beans bitch I'm on, your boy is bad to the bone
 Bring back the horns that was played in the beginning
 And tell Tony Parker that I found his vision
 And if he's tripping off my sneak dissing
 Then he has to deal with me and my minions
 Tryna get a Bimmer, E46
 Have you heard 48? Motherfucker I'm great
 Golf Wang prints always cover the sleeves
 From cuts from the Biebs, 'cause he's puffin' the trees, please
 Fuck I look like? Got a new bike tire
 Never popped like the pussy on a bitch dyke
 Think I give a fuck, I do, I go balls
 Then I bust in her jaw like (fuck that disease)
 My urethra, hole that I pee from
 Bigger than the obese neck on Aretha
 Now, turn that snare down
 I'm back like I'm Rosa Parks fare on the same damn bus like "You're going to jail now!"
 Tamale, ah! Tamale, ah! Tamale, ah! Tamale
 Why y'all so salty? Hot tamale is on
 A can of beans bitch I'm on, your boy is bad to the bone
 How much wood could a woodchuck chuck?
 If a woodchuck could ever give a fuck?
 Bitch suck dick, motherfuck you and your opinions (can you kick it?)
 Yes, I can sir, where the lump is. sicker than the last bar bold-er
 I'm a CO Colorado, fuck Michael, bitch I'm badder than my BO
 Find me and Lance tryna dance during chemo
 Before they repossess our strong arm bands and tuxedos
 Yeah buddy, this is my jam, na na na na na
 Golf Wang, Golf Wang, no fuck you, na na na na na
 Why y'all so salty? Hot tamale is on
 A can of beans bitch, I'm on
 Your boy is bad to the bone
 How many fags can a lightbulb screw?
 Well if it has a dick, maybe two or six
 And tell the NRA I'm about to lose my shit
 And shoot through Wayne LaPierre's hair with a crucifix
 How many ladies in the house?
 How many ladies in the house without a rich nigga, huh?
 A little Jergens in my palm for the jerkin'
 Hope my mom don't catch me, tryna set mood
 Little RedTube, fuck lotion, I don't need lube, dry fist suits me
 Up and down, friction make a sound, shit's kind of disgusting
 Fap time and before I flatline, Clancy chimes in my room and catch me
 This shit's so damn embarrassing like-
 Oh shit, aw (fuck)
 What the fuck!
 Aw, I'm sorry
 Is that my shirt?
 Yeah, I'm sorry I just wanted some bangs
 Clean that shit up, we're going to the office
 Aw, fuck