Letra de 'French' de Tyler, The Creator

Got all the black bitches mad cause my main bitch vanilla
She tryna get her groove back like Stella, grab the umbrella
When it comes to your perception of my shit, I'm Helen Keller
When it comes to the perfection of my shit, I know you smell the
Rectum, I'm like a chromosome I always X 'em
Like Wolverine stepson attackin' a deadly weapon
I'm openin' a church to sell coke and Led Zeppelin
And fuck Mary in her ass.. ha-ha.. yo
I'm fuckin' Goldilocks up in the forest
In the three bear house eatin' their muthafuckin' porridge
I tell her it's my house, give her a tour
In my basement, and keep that bitch locked up in my storage
Rape her and record it, then edit it with more shit
Octopussy special effect the wet bitches be bangin'
And please never disrespect my set with Canons
Hangin' from our necks like it's a muthafuckin' circus

[Hook]
You little niggas better check my French
You gettin' money better check my French
Ahh, what time is it, huh? Check my French
If you got my shit you better check my French
I'm makin' moves, check my French
I speak English but check my French
Your ho be on my penis, she check my French, bitch

[Verse 2: Tyler]
I guess I left my dignity up in the cupboard, cause every girl I'm diggin'
When I'm diggin' in her pussy, I'm never usin' a rubber
But fuck it I guess I gotta stretch it out like it was flubber
And leave it drippin' green and red like double cheese buggers
Chewin' on cum like bubble gum from Hubba
This bitch knew dick like Bubba knew shrimp, yeah
Yo, I'm seventeen, already sniffin' blow
I tell my friends it's asthma every time I start to itch my throat
I got a new show for MTV, "Pimp My Boat"
Because some bitch said my semen was dirty, that's silly ho
The most that they can do is find me, I'm hiding
Somewhere where Chris Stokes can't find me
Oh no, Mr. Stokes, I don't like misters, no
Don't tell R. Kelly where my little sister go

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Hodgy]
Yo, you little niggas better check my French
I got all stars and you can check my bench
Left Brain, Super 3, Creator Ace
Put expressions in their music and create the face
Of the picture punchline figured out, ahh I get you
No you don't nigga so why don't you go figure
You seem confused anyway, pressured enough?
You the type of dude that choke when the pressure is up
The pressure is to pump and the pressure is us
Bitches havin' eargasms and the pleasure is us
Niggas wanna be O.F. and write letters to us
Competition's competition, yo you better than us?
Digest what I'm sayin'? I don't think so
We sick shit, throw it up down in the sink, yo
The Odd niggas are beginnin' to spill these pink hoes
We think sorta odd so we think so

[Outro: Tyler]
Crusin' in my go kart at Walmart sellin' cupcakes
Go 'head admit it faggot, this shit is tighter than butt rape
That involve Ballpark Franks and silver duct tape
Pornos and hormones and boxes of DiGiorno
You homos is loco you're probably drinkin' Cuervo
With some vatos with the door closed watchin' Zorro, you homos.. O.F

P. S.: "Pardon my French" is a term commonly used when cussing, but Tyler wants you to check his fucking French out instead of pardoning it - sacre bleu!