Letra de My Level - Tyler, The Creator

(Feat. The Creator, Lil Yachty)

Bitch, you got so much motherfucking heart, bitch, swing

C'mon, swing, one- one more time (Don't touch my girl, mama, let her get down)

Swing, nigga, swing, swing (Just mop her ass up and get it over with)

(I bet she ain't doing nothing but talking)

Swing (She don't wanna get down)

Swing, that's all I want you to do, is swing (She bipolar)

'Cause I know you motherfucking crazy (She bipolar, girl)

Like, swing (Yeah, and get a check right?)

I don't know what the fuck you get and don't give a fuck

But I want you to swing (Yeah), if I have to whoop your ass on this goddamn bus, I-

I'm rich as a bitch and you not on my level, you digging, no shovel, I know you do

A million-one kids come up to me every day and tell me "Look, Lil Boat, I'm the younger you"

I eat on that pussy, then beat it, mistreat it, I'm reckless, got gold on my necklace

My brother control all the blocks just like Tetris, he dropped out, the next day he made a killing

Free that nigga out the state prison

They fuck with Lil Boat 'cause the way I'm driven

I'm driftin' that six off the road

Bet a buck that my niggas won't fold

You a bitch and I know you a hoe, real nigga head to toe

Sock a nigga dead in front of his bitch

Dig a hole and drop him off in a ditch, bitch

Bitch, you keep fucking up like a glitch

Fuckin' fuck niggas hoes, that's my niche, beat his ass if he switch

Where he at, where he go? Prolly hidin' like a ho

Prolly trying to call his bro, I do not fuck with niggas, hell no

Beat his ass, bare paw

Where they at? There they go

Where they at? There they go

Where they at? There they go

Where they at? There they go

Swing (Swing), swing (Swing), swing (Swing, bitch), swing (Bitch)

Swing (Bitch), swing (Hey, you got 'em Tyler), swing, swing (Haha, bitch)

I ain't really with the, "Shoot 'em up, bang"

Fuck them niggas, nah, they ain't gang, gang, gang, gang, gang, gang

And me and them niggas, nah, we ain't the same thing

Better hope boy gon' call up the troops

I know some boys that'll shoot out the roof

Shoot out the roof, yeah, shoot out the roof

'Cause my doors go up, I could shoot out the coupe

Speed off, we off, nigga, get off these nuts

Think T soft, nah, he hard

Got guns the size of Rick Ross' draws

Boy, you better go watch your tone

'Fore I get boys to watch your home

And watch your watch and take your wrist

And click-clack and clock your dome, boy

This ain't no real reason, we ain't got no treason

Fuck them missing knees in, knees in the business and breathin'

Boy, you'll be missin' and breathin' somewhere else

[?]

They be like "Where they at? There they go"

Body missing, no one knows, I don't know

My tax bracket made it so that I don't touch nobody

Inside a body, pada, with tada, body, ayy, tada, body, body

Fucking Prada and call somebody

Run me back

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