[Tyler, The Creator:]
Yo, who dat boy? Who him is?
Him that ni-gga, I swear
Stand out guy, him don't need no chair
Well, where the fuck him at? 'Cause nigga, I'm right here
I don't shop at the mall, all y'all just
Dumb mothafucka, I'm a goddamn artist
You can give me some markers and I'll draw you a closet
And you know that it's GOLF, bitch, gonna make the deposit
Nigga fresh to death like he got dressed in a coffin
Cons, overalls, and a striped shirt
The boy drips swag like a broken faucet
It's runnin', nigga, I'm runnin' shit
That cherry be the bomb like he ran in Boston
Won't stop 'til the cops surround him
One nigga jiggy and the other awesome
With his fuckin' face blown off, that's how they found him
It's Young T

[Tyler, The Creator