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Tyler, The Creator – SAFARI Lyrics


[Intro: DJ Drama & Tyler, The Creator]

Destination: remote

We done been everywhere

Only thing we ain’t traveled

Is time (Yo)

[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]

The boy records smell like bleach

I can travel where I want

I’m accustomed clearin’ customs

It ain’t custom, I don’t come

Flee the bird to the truck

I said “au revoir” to the stewardess

Border control, that’s some stupid shit

Stayin’ at home, I hate

Runaway love but I’m no Ludacris

Sippin’ on mint tea, take my shoes off

Then we take off then I snooze off

Until I land where I’m foreign

And I wake up, have to droop off

Got my passport in my weak hand

I’ma cool off, get a sweet tan

Loafers filled with beach sand

We climbed ’til we found the peace sign

Fuck all the checks and the calls, get a passport

See the world, open your eyes ’til your back hurt

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Niggas get bread and won’t leave, shit is backwards

Start with your feet then a car then a airport

Get our your bubble gum

Blow up horizons, sun

Sled in the Alps or go tube in Missoula

Or tour in Japan or go scuba in Cuba

Or land in a borough, Gerard got the brioche

Ciabatta in Como, it matches my peacoat

Oversee the sea, all the things that you could see

Like them languages I speak, out in Paris for a week

Take my nephews out to Nice, they like “Who?” I’m like, “Oui,” ha

[Break: DJ Drama & Tyler, The Creator]

Legendary (Find me)


Globally recognized

Catch us if you can (Baby, you should find me)

Are you keepin’ up? (Find)

Once in a lifetime (Baby, you should find me)

This what it sounds like when the moon and the sun collide

Speakin’ matter-of-factly (Baby, you should find me)

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We’re just light years ahead (You said that it was you I saw with another in my place)


[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]

Every car retarded, the garage look like a loony bin

What coupe he in depends on the fit and the type of mood he in (Ugh)

I been switchin’ gears since Tracee Ellis Ross was UPN

Clutched then he stroked, got to know her like a droopy grin (Ugh)

Huh, took that GRAMMY home, couldn’t lose again

The suit was so sharp that it could get Medusa coochie trim (Ugh)

Hov talkin’ ’bout a hundred million, nigga, loop me in

Like who that young, rich, handsome nigga with the gooey skin? (Ugh)

Mama named him Tyler and his brothers call him T

And the bank, they call him when that wire clear like season three or somethin’ (Ugh)

Skateboard named him Bunnyhop, it’s Baudelaire Wolfie though

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The felines name him Al for how long he eat the— (Pussy) wait a minute (Ugh)

Pink loafers scuff quickly, Fiat cost a buck sixty

I’ll keep it a buck fifty, y’all can’t really fuck with me (Ugh)

Bitch, I got the fuzz and I’ma own it ’til they bury him

Only twenty-nine but I’ve been focused since thirty M (Ugh)

[Outro: DJ Drama & Tyler, The Creator]


Call me if you get lost (Gangsta Grillz)

And like that (Uh), we gone

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