Tyler, the Creator - Her Lyrics

Oh I don't need the metronome bro
(It's this girl)

She lives next door, to the store that I loiter at
We talk every night, she cry to me about her guy
And if we text I get pissed when I get no reply
I know that she's the key to love
She is who I'm thinking of when I am beating Richard up
To mental images her face look
The closest that I got is when I'm poking her on Facebook
Video chats are so exciting
Cause it's like she is inviting me to her world full of privacy
I'm getting gassed up, I think she's liking me
She's gullible and I just wanna take it like a pirate
I see her in class
Not really two doors down but in anytime that I pass
To take a piss in a stall, I picture us in the hall
Locking lips on the wall, her hand grabbing my dick
My left hand on her tits, oh my shit's getting hard
From thoughts of dating this bitch
Her name is my passwords, fuck

All my niggas got they bitches and stuff
But all the bitches they fuck, are known as bitches and sluts
But she special, I know to y'all I come off as rough
But I'm the nicest to her, and I just want to concur
A relation, I want the cheesy dates at the movies
And stupid walks on the beach, and sharing straws in a cup
I never had that, so when we holding hands walking home
I look past that, the fact that she's fucking guys that I hate
But, things are looking great cut copy
Last time we talk she said that her relationship was Rocky (Action)
Now that Mr. Fag is gone, there's no one that can stop me
From bagging her, I got these tickets to the Roxy
Next day metro's taking me home
I see her in a car at Wendy's, but she's not alone
Who's that guy? Wait, why the fuck he 'bout to kiss her?
Come to find out she got back with her nigga, damn, fuck

She's so pretty, fuck self pity, I feel so shitty
I wanna text her in a jealous rage
But if she reply to say anything, I'ma smile I know
What do I do with myself, sit in my room for some days
Play Xbox and piles full of wet socks? Fuck that

My nigga ask, "Ace, what happened to such and such?"
I could smother her name, and then tell him I probably fucked
Or I could tell him the truth, and just say she ain't like me much
But instead I lie and say she moved to Nebraska