[Intro]
Tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale!

[Verse 1]
They say I've calmed down since the last album
Well, lick my dick, how does that sound? Um
Smell my gooch, you could kiss my buns
And I don't give a shit, bend my rectum
Somebody said bands make her dance
She thinks you're getting cash, no, bitch, you're dumb
The only thing that you're gonna get is this dick
Wait, turn this up, bitch, this my jam (Where the drums at?)
Here, take a goddamn picture
And tell Spike Lee he's a goddamn nig​ger
And while you're at it, pass the lotion
And fapping and Xbox Live, that fun
Before I cum, I call your sister
When she comes over, I take picture
Instantly put it on Instagram
And suplex her off a building if I get banned

[Chorus]
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Why y'all so salty?
Hot tamale is on
A can of beans, bitch, I'm on
Your boy is bad to the bone
[Verse 2]
Bring back the horns that was played in the beginning
And tell Tony Parker that I found his vision
And if he's tripping off my sneak dissing
Then he has to deal with me and my minions
Tryna get a Bimmer, E46
Have you heard "48"? Motherfucker, I'm great
Golf Wang prints always cover the sleeves
From cuts for the Biebs, 'cause he's puffin' the trees, please
Fuck I look like? Got a new bike
Tire never pop like the puss on a butch dyke
Think I give a fuck, I do, I go raw
Then I bust in her jaw like (Fuck that disease)
My urethra, hole that I pee from
Bigger than the obese neck on Aretha
Now turn that snare down, I'm back like I'm Rosa Parks fare
On the same damn bus like, "You're going to jail now"

[Chorus]
Tamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!
Why y'all so salty?
Hot tamale is on
A can of beans, bitch, I'm on
Your boy is bad to the bone