I'm a fucking walking paradox (no i'm not)
threesomes with a fucking triceratops, reptar
rappin' as i'm mocking deaf rock stars
wearing synthetic wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks, bedrock
harder than a mothafuckin flintstone
making crack rocks outta pussy nigga fishbones
this nigga Jasper tryna get grown, about 5-7 of his bitches in my bedroom
swallow the cinnamon, ima scribble this sinner shit
while Syd is tellin' me that she's been getting intimate with men
(Syd, shut the fuck up) here's the number to my therapist
tell him all your problems, he's fuckin' awesome with listening

Jesus called, he said he's sick of the disses
I told him to quit bitching, this isn't a fucking hotline for a fuckin' shrink
sheesh, i already got mine and he's not fuckin working, i think i'm wasting my damn time
i'm cockin' 3 past 6 and goin' postal
it's the revenge of the dicks, that's 9 cocks that cock 9's
this ain't no v-tech shit or columbine but after bowling i went home for some damn adventure time
i slipped myself some pink xanies
and danced around the house in all over print panties
but mom's gone, that fuckin' broad will never understand me
i'm not gay(e), i juzt wanna boogie to some Marvin
(what you think of haley williams) FUCK her
wolf haley robbin them
i'll crash that fucking airplane that that faggot nigga 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 overacheiver, 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 is, fuck, money, diamonds, and bitches don't need 'em
but where the fat ones at? i got somethin' to feed 'em
in some cooking books the black kids never wanted to read 'em
snap back green ch-ch-ch-chi and fuckin' leaves
it's been a couple months and Tina still ain't permed her fucking weave.

They say success is the best revenge so I beat Deshay up with a stack of magazines I'm in.
Oh, not again, another critic writing report- I'm stabbin' any blogging faggot hipster with a Pitchfork.
still suicidal i am,
i'm Wolf- Tyler put this fuckin' knife in my hand
i'm Wolf- Ace put that fuckin' hole in my head
and i'm Wolf- that was me who shoved the cock in your bitch
(what the fuck man) fuck 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 fuck so he's probably just like me
A MOTHERFUCKING GOBLIN
(fuck everything man) that's what my conscious said
then the bunny hopped off my shoulder, now my conscious's dead
now the only guidance that i have is splattered on cement
actions speak louder than words, let me try this shit
DEAD.



Lyrics submitted by WolfGang666

Yonkers song meanings
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  • +12
    General Comment

    This song is about him arguing with the person inside is head, who he wants to be. Look up the definition of paradox, it means contradiction. The whole song is a contradictions of itself.

    "I'm a fuckin walkin paradox 'no I'm not'" (contradiction)

    "Green paper, gold teeth and pregnant gold retrievers, all I want. Fuck money, diamonds and bitches don't need em" (green paper= money, gold teether=jewels/diamonds, pregnant gold retrievers=bitches so yet another contradiction)

    Everyone has a voice inside there head telling them to do bad things, to be the cool person they want to be. For him this is that person.

    He says in a interview explaining this song all this. He doesn't just rap about stupid things, sure he's inappropriate but he's young, joking around and a lot of his songs have a deeper meaning. So don't judge a book by it's cover because you're obviously not complex enough to look past the cover.

    swagmethefouton June 01, 2011   Link

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