[Intro: Tyler, The Creator]
Ahem

[Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator]
Got all the Black girls 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's stepson, attacking a deadly weapon
I'm going down in history, once upon a time
With some leprechauns from Lebanon, yo
I'm fucking Goldilocks up in the forest
In the three-bear house, eating they motherfucking 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, direct
Bitches, we banging, and please never disrespect my set
With Canons hanging from our necks like it's a motherfucking circus

[Chorus: Hodgy, Tyler, the Creator & Both]
You little n***as better check my French (My French)
Ugh, you getting money? Better check my French (My French)
Uh, what time is it, huh? check my French (My French)
If you got my shit, you better check my French (Motherfucker!)
I'm making moves, sh— check my French (My French)
I speak English, but check my French (My French)
Your ho be on my penis, she checks my French
Bitch!
[Verse 2: Tyler, the Creator & Hodgy]
I guess I left my dignity up in the cupboard
'Cause every girl I'm digging
When I'm digging in her pussy, I'm never using (A rubber)
But fuck it, I guess I gotta stretch it out like it was flubber
And leave it dripping green and red like double cheeseburgers
Chewing on cum like bubblegum from Hubba
This bitch knew dick like Bubba knew shrimp (Hahahaha!) Yeah
(Yeah, that's a good one, yo)
Yo, I'm seventeen, already sniffing 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 silly ho
The most that they can do is fine 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

[Chorus: Hodgy, Tyler, the Creator & Both]
You little n***as better check my French (My French)
Ugh, you getting money? Better check my French (My French)
Uh, what time is it, huh? check my French (My French)
If you got my shit, you better check my French (Motherfucker!)
I'm making moves, sh— check my French (My French)
I speak English, but check my French (My French)
Your ho be on my penis, she checks my French
Bitch!
[Verse 3: Tyler, the Creator]
Crusing in my go-kart at Walmart selling cupcakes
Go 'head, admit it, faggot, this shit is tighter than butt rape
That involve Ballpark Franks and silver duct tape
Pornos, some hormones, and boxes of DiGiorno
You homos is loco, you probably drinking Cuervo
With some vatos and they huevos, watching "Zorro" with the door closed
Jackin' off to HypeBeast, you want those, adore those
Faggot Gucci shit—you can't afford those, so you go
And pose in new clothes and [?]
Colored pants, Ray-Bans, [?] on turbo
Jumping on the trend-oh like trending is a Pogo
Fuckin' up they image with yo' ass closed, you asshole
Motherfuckin' followers, please get off of my mojo
You don't fucking skate, take off that box logo
I'm the Grand Canyon like I was hanging with Joe Dirt
I'm moving too fast, let me say it in slow-mo
Oh, no, ayo, l'eggo of my Eggo
Temp like Frego, lay low and play Lego
Lovely now, why, bitch? Because I say so
The devil just ordered me some wings and a halo
My lyrics the swordfish, my beats is the horseshit
But me as a motherfuckin' person? I'm the lord's dick
And you can take that to the grave
Unless you wanna live
[Outro: Tyler, The Creator]
But that don't rhyme for shit
Shit, I'm not speakin' English
That's why I asked you to check my French
Bitch

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