BEST NEW TRACKS: TYLER, THE CREATOR “SMUCKERS (FT. KANYE WEST & LIL WAYNE)”

4/20/15
Tyler, The Creator “Smuckers (ft. Kanye West & Lil Wayne)”

We’ve been all over Tyler, The Creator’s new album, Cherry Bomb. And we’ve got at least one more stand-out song to bring you: “Smuckers (ft. Kanye West & Lil Wayne)."

When I first started really listening to hip hop several lifetimes ago, I was continually fascinated by the amount of collaborations that went on between artists. I loved that rappers were willing to be on one another's tracks, taking the backseat for the greater good. Or even better, try and steal the limelight with the few bars they’re allowed. And while not every team-up results in “Black Republicans” or “Nosetalgia,” these frequent fraternizing between artists is one of the best things about the genre.

Which brings us back to “Smuckers,” the best song off Cherry Bomb. What’s interesting to me here is the different approach the two legends take on Tyler’s track. Kanye is clearly here to best T, and he does, but it takes a considerable amount of effort. On the other hand Wayne seems like he just stumbled into the studio and was reluctantly talked into contributing to the song. He’s sleepy and nonchalant, and his bars mainly act to compliment Tyler’s. It all works out wonderfully in the end and gives us one of the best hip hop songs of the year.

 

TYLER, THE CREATOR “SMUCKERS (FT. KANYE WEST & LIL WAYNE)”

Cherry Bomb is out now and it’s fantastic. You know where to pick it up. Be cool and actually pay for it, or at least find someway to support the artist, ya know?

Anyways, here’s the dope ass lyrics to Tyler, The Creator “Smuckers””:

 

(tyler, the creator)
for your boy
i'm watchin' freaks and geeks with the trampoline on the floor
i'm tryna cop the new mclaren with the vertical doors, nigga

money, money, money, money, money ain't the motive
what's your name again? nobody knows it
don't speak to me nigga, you not important
i'm focused
they say i'm nutty, a picnic basket
i'm short of a sandwich
a peanut butter, boyce watkin's a faggot
please come and get me
said i suck him at your neck
like a hickey, boy i'm sicky
like a hiv victim, man nobody fuckin' with me
i got banned from new zealand, whitey called me demon
and a terrorist, god dammit i couldn't believe it
ban a kid from the country, i never fall, never timber
but you fucked up as a parent, your child idol’s a nigger
i clearly don't give a fuck, say you could run that shit back
and fuck your loud pack, and fuck your snapchat
cherry bomb, the greatest fuckin' album since the days of sound
and that shit gon' pop just like that nigga that was never 'round
damn, 'bout to drop, gas 'em up, thick exhaust
young t, came quick, hard to beat, dick is soft
we ain't lyin', we the truth, call him simba, beats his hooves
tyler the creator sweatin' jesus juice
put that fuckin' cow on my level, cause i'm raisin' the stakes
mom i made you a promise, it's no more section 8
when we ate its the steaks, now our section is great
cause that's the level i'm at, my niggas pass em a plate
'ye!

(kanye west)
why, oh why, why?
why don't they like me?
cause nike gave lot of niggas checks
but i'm the only nigga to ever check nike

richer than white people with black kids
scarier than black people with ideas
nobody can tell me where i'm headin'
but i feel like michael jordan, scottie pippen at my wedding
they say i'm crazy but that's the best thing going for me
you can't lynch marshawn, if tom brady throwin' to me
i made a million mistakes, but i'm successful in spite of 'em
i believe you like a fat trainer takin' a bite or somethin'
i wanna turn the tanks to playgrounds
i dream't of 2pac, he asked me "are you still down?"
"yeah my nigga", it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on
i know they told their white daughters don't bring home jerome
i am the free nigga archetype
i am the light and the beacon, you can ask the deacon
it's funny when you get extra money
every joke you tell just be extra funny
i mean you can even dress extra bummy
cocaine, bathroom break, nose extra runny
and i gave you all i got, you still want extra from me
oxford want a full blown lecture from me
and the lexus pull up, err like hop, i hopped out, like wassup
err-err-err, step back, hold up, my nigga you suck, hold up
i studied the proportions
emotions runnin' at an autobahn speed level
had a drink with fear, and i was textin' god
he said "i gave you a big dick, so go extra hard"

(tyler)
for your boy
i'm tryna pop the new mclaren with the vertical doors nigga
i'm watchin' freaks and geeks with the trampoline on the floor
damn

(tyler)
(two, three, four)
hold your fuckin' horses
niggas really fuckin' thought that t lost it
like i bet it at an auction been exhausted
i been workin' while y'all cylinders smoke like broken exhaust tips
fuckin' losers

(lil wayne)
hold your fuckin' ponies my homie
i whip your donkey by my lonely i eat pussy like shoney's
that's tunechi, homie, master of ceremonies
i knock 'em down, domino effect, no pepperoni
i swear

(tyler)
this them golf boys, like them hot boys
for the nine, 9 and 2,000, but its the two-thou
when the one four and the one five, yo what up wayne
(what up slime, nigga go hard)
yeah, i'mma go hard like before cain
got too much drive, need like ten lanes
life is a broad and she give brain
that's that road head, thats a dream car
got a full tank of that same year i was born
that's that one nine nine one, 'nother nigga like i
you won't find one, cuz nigga i'm a god, a divine one, tune

(lil wayne)
my trigger finger wise but my nine dumb
middle finger blind so its fuck a-n-y one
fuck, skate and die son, a hundred ways to die son
i'm starin' at a tramp on lean, make my eye jump
use adderall like alarm clocks wake my high up
steaks are high well done and prime cut, eat up
i stick my rollie in her mouth, let the time come
she got hair like shanaynay, and eyes like wanda
oh my goodness

(tyler)
wayne them bitches ugly, these niggas colder than tommy buddy
'ye we hittin' models like tony parker be hittin' bottles
bitch i'm goin' harder than yellow cabby stoppin' for lionel
(black ass nigga)
they be duckin' us niggas, shout out to donald sterling
boy lets get a scrimmage, i'll cut some niggas, i'll bring the clippers
and a couple owners, that's kinda german
you bring the nooses, and a couple trees
where the money grow, and get bodies burning
cause i'm tryna hang like i'm mr. cooper or jews in berlin
or some niggas from alabama, birmingham
i need music all over the street like erick sermon
was, fuck us, maybe we should team up
anti golf boys cuz i don't fuck with me either
i'm a liar, i'm a faggot

(lil wayne)
son you need jesus
but i heard he left sunset, to go on tour with yeezus, well
i'm prayin' for the new yeezys
and you pussies prayin' that we squash the beef like zucchinis
i know, it ain't gain, nor fame, nor tame
or lame, nor strange

(tyler)
nah faggot it's golf wang

 

About Calvin Paradise

Calvin Paradise manages to live a productive life despite a childhood of home schooling and suffering from what some doctors have called the worst case of Groucho Marx's Syndrome in recorded history.