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Yonkers by Tyler The Creator
Yonkers
D A D G B E
This is the bass thats played throughout the song...
e|----------------------------------------------------|
B|----------------------------------------------------|
G|----------------------------------------------------|
D|----------------------------------------------------|
A|----------------------------------------------------|
D|1------------------------0--------------------------|
(Ring out-------------------------------------------|
During the verses, I just played this in the background. You can strum both of them as
many times as you want, it will probably sound sweet.
e|6------------------------5------------------------|
B|7------------------------6------------------------|
G|8------------------------7------------------------|
D|8------------------------7------------------------|
A|6------------------------5------------------------|
D|--------------------------------------------------|
And then for the chorus, you can play this picking part.
e|--6-7-6---6---6-6-7-6---6-------------------------|
B|4-----------------------------x3------------------|
G|--------------------------------------------------|
D|--------------------------------------------------|
A|--------------------------------------------------|
D|--------------------------------------------------|
and then on the last one...
e|--6-7-6---6---6-6-7-6---6-------------------------|
B|3-------------------------------------------------|
G|--------------------------------------------------|
D|--------------------------------------------------|
A|--------------------------------------------------|
D|--------------------------------------------------|
[Verse 1]
I'm a f**king walking paradox, no I'm not
Threesomes with a f**king triceratops, Reptar
Rapping as I'm mocking deaf rock stars
Wearing synthetic wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks
Bedrock, harder than a mothaf**king flintstone
Making crack rocks out of pussy ni**a fishbones
This ni**a Jasper trying to get grown
About 5'7" of his b****es in my bedroom
Swallow the cinnamon, I'm a scribble this sinning s**t
While Syd is telling me that she's been getting intimate with men
(Syd, shut the f**k up) Here's the number to my therapist
(S**t) Tell him all your problems, he's f**king awesome with listening
[Verse 2]
Jesus called, he said he's sick of the disses
I told him to quit bi***ing and this isn't a f**king hotline
For a f**king shrink, sheesh I already got mine
And he's not f**king working, I think I'm wasting my damn time
I'm clocking three past six and going postal
This the revenge of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock nines
This ain't no V Tech s**t or Columbine
But after bowling, I went home for some damn Adventure Time
(What'd you do?) I slipped myself some pink Zannies
And danced around the house in all-over print panties
My mom's gone, that f**king broad will never understand me
I'm not gay, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin
(What you think of Hayley Williams?) F**k her, Wolf Haley robbing them
I'll crash that f**king airplane that that faggot ni**a B.o.B is in
And stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus
And won't stop until the cops come in
I'm an over achiever, so how about I start a team of leaders
And pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver?
Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrievers
All I want, f**k money, diamonds and bitches, don't need them
But where the fat ones at? I got something to feed them
In some cooking books, the black kids never wanted to read them
Snap back, green ch-ch-chia f**king leaves
It's been a couple months, and Tina still ain't perm her f**king weave, damn
[Verse 3]
They say success is the best revenge
So I beat DeShay up with the stack of magazines I'm in
Oh, not again, another critic writing report
I'm stabbing any blogging faggot hipster with a Pitchfork
Still suicidal? I am
I'm Wolf, Tyler put this f**king knife in my hand
I'm Wolf, Ace going to put that f**king hole in my head
And I'm Wolf, that was me who shoved a c**k in your bitch
(What the f**k, man?) f**k the fame and all the hype, G
I just want to know if my father would ever like me
But I don't give a f**k so he's probably just like me
A mothaf**king Goblin
(F**k everything, man) That's what my conscience said
Then it bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead
Now the only guidance that I had is splattered on cement
Actions speak louder than words, let me try this s**t, dead.
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