Uploaded September 2026 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
🎶 AZ Chike - Look Like My Mama (Lyrics) ft. Tyler, The Creator
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🎤 Lyrics:
[Intro: Tyler, The Creator]
Yeah (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
Bitch, I look just like my mama
Tick-tick, time to heat it up like a sauna
Your negro hit cha-cha, lil' dance like La Bamba
Thumper might drop if I stomp in these Converse
Why are you mad, lil' bitch? Get some commas
Pitty-pat pockets lookin' celiac, kitty fat
Ayy, Chike, bro, let's bring the city back
Really that guy (Hmm), what he really on?
Shit, for now, call me Mr. Hundred Million, goddamn
[Verse 2: AZ Chike]
Bet a bitch get tired before I stop throwin' money
Bitch, this thuggin' in my veins, don't need it tatted on my stomach, dawg
Call it pita bread, big bag, I mean hummus
Never stress about a bitch, I re-up in three months
Thеn I take one step back, and tеn forward
I let niggas copy me, copy that, 10-4
Hoes sent, send the text, these hoes weak, send more, nigga (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator]
Bitch, I'm sorry, snuck it in the party
Said you're getting guap, niggas lyin' like safari
Hate when a bird ask questions, like, "What are we?"
Got me runnin' with that long stick in hand like Sha'Carri (Uh)
P-noid, I don't play 'round
Brodie said he'll swing and slide for me, he a playground (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Bitch, I'm too rich to use a Zelle or a PayPal
I stuff so many bitches in the Rolls, shit a Greyhound (Hm)
[Verse 4: AZ Chike & Tyler, The Creator]
I dot my I's but I'll never cross my nigga T (Nigga)
They just starin' 'cause they scared, you know how niggas be
You hittin' send on a Tweet, nigga, hit the streets
I wake up and thank God for makin' me what I'm meant to be
I don't even play fair, niggas know what's up
Catch a opp in the club, might blow it up
I'm from the land, where you from? Nigga, throw it up (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 5: Tyler, The Creator]
Ayy, ayy, baby, I'm the keyboard killer, tour seat filler
Mr. New Ting in the G4 with her
Big feet, big league, you's a D4 nigga
Me and Jasper, the purple and gold floor sitter
Errybody sittin' front row ain't a fan
Errybody that you cool with ain't ya mans
Niggas jealous of me, still shook my momma hand
Fuck all that business, under ten toes, I stand, nigga
[Verse 6: AZ Chike]
Bitch, I smell like new money, yeah, sponsor shoe money
In her throat like Throat Coat, tea bags and two honeys
Only do what niggas dream of or can't even imagine
Try to throw me off my pivot but the check say New Balance
Let me loose, huh, let me through
Hoppin' the fence to the top, T came gave me a boost
Niggas boof, chop the deuce, I do movies, you do spoofs
Consider this shit easy math the way I calculate my moves, uh (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 7: Tyler, The Creator]
Ayy, nigga, CHROMAKOPIA, I had my guard down
Crackers tried to say I only rap about my cars now
I'm the only one who left the block and turned the car 'round
And picked my niggas up, sorry if I'm tryna bar out
Stop judgin' buddy loss if you don't show him ways of winnin'
Stop sayin', "Free the homie," if you know that nigga did it
Is it ballot or the bullet? 'Cause I'm votin' for the killin'
We gon' burn this bitch down, put the fire to the ceilin', nigga, uh
[Verse 8: AZ Chike]
Bitch, you know it's first Sunday like Katt Williams
Blow her back out, then I hit it while her back healin'
Catch 'em out back, backdoor 'em, then I'm back chillin'
Weak bitch, peaked in high school, can't get back that feelin', uh
Yeah, that's right, the wanna DAZN, box me in
But I ain't going without a fight
Bitch, the whip so white, I had to let it read my rights
It be the niggas I'm better than sayin' they can't see the hype, tough (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 9: Tyler, The Creator]
Ayy, ayy, my mama prayed for me, but I still keep blammer (Yup)
Your bitch is not bad, you just have low standards
I'm him, bow down, nigga, where is your manners? (Come on)
When I walk in, phone down, I don't like cameras (Come on)
If that big fella catch you, I can't help you
I'm Santa, got a big bag with a elf, too
Two car keys, seven M's on the belt loop
And I skrrt off, tires smell like I melt boot
[Verse 10: AZ Chike]
Big feet, big Chike, bitch, I got big dick
Your attitude don't match your pockets, wait a minute, big ick, ugh
Been called the blitz, she turned around, hit stick, ugh
Career on tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, boom
I got way too much confidence for a bitch
I got way too much chip and dip on a hoe
I got way too much, I can't keep it on the low, hm
I got way too much, huh, I got way too much
🎶 AZ Chike - Look Like My Mama (Lyrics) ft. Tyler, The Creator
đź”” Subscribe and turn on notifications to stay updated with new uploads.
đź‘Ť Please leave a like and appreciate all the support!
For business inquiries, music submissions or video takedowns please contactâ–¸vibesonlysubmissions@gmail.com
🎤 Lyrics:
[Intro: Tyler, The Creator]
Yeah (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator]
Bitch, I look just like my mama
Tick-tick, time to heat it up like a sauna
Your negro hit cha-cha, lil' dance like La Bamba
Thumper might drop if I stomp in these Converse
Why are you mad, lil' bitch? Get some commas
Pitty-pat pockets lookin' celiac, kitty fat
Ayy, Chike, bro, let's bring the city back
Really that guy (Hmm), what he really on?
Shit, for now, call me Mr. Hundred Million, goddamn
[Verse 2: AZ Chike]
Bet a bitch get tired before I stop throwin' money
Bitch, this thuggin' in my veins, don't need it tatted on my stomach, dawg
Call it pita bread, big bag, I mean hummus
Never stress about a bitch, I re-up in three months
Thеn I take one step back, and tеn forward
I let niggas copy me, copy that, 10-4
Hoes sent, send the text, these hoes weak, send more, nigga (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 3: Tyler, The Creator]
Bitch, I'm sorry, snuck it in the party
Said you're getting guap, niggas lyin' like safari
Hate when a bird ask questions, like, "What are we?"
Got me runnin' with that long stick in hand like Sha'Carri (Uh)
P-noid, I don't play 'round
Brodie said he'll swing and slide for me, he a playground (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Bitch, I'm too rich to use a Zelle or a PayPal
I stuff so many bitches in the Rolls, shit a Greyhound (Hm)
[Verse 4: AZ Chike & Tyler, The Creator]
I dot my I's but I'll never cross my nigga T (Nigga)
They just starin' 'cause they scared, you know how niggas be
You hittin' send on a Tweet, nigga, hit the streets
I wake up and thank God for makin' me what I'm meant to be
I don't even play fair, niggas know what's up
Catch a opp in the club, might blow it up
I'm from the land, where you from? Nigga, throw it up (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 5: Tyler, The Creator]
Ayy, ayy, baby, I'm the keyboard killer, tour seat filler
Mr. New Ting in the G4 with her
Big feet, big league, you's a D4 nigga
Me and Jasper, the purple and gold floor sitter
Errybody sittin' front row ain't a fan
Errybody that you cool with ain't ya mans
Niggas jealous of me, still shook my momma hand
Fuck all that business, under ten toes, I stand, nigga
[Verse 6: AZ Chike]
Bitch, I smell like new money, yeah, sponsor shoe money
In her throat like Throat Coat, tea bags and two honeys
Only do what niggas dream of or can't even imagine
Try to throw me off my pivot but the check say New Balance
Let me loose, huh, let me through
Hoppin' the fence to the top, T came gave me a boost
Niggas boof, chop the deuce, I do movies, you do spoofs
Consider this shit easy math the way I calculate my moves, uh (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 7: Tyler, The Creator]
Ayy, nigga, CHROMAKOPIA, I had my guard down
Crackers tried to say I only rap about my cars now
I'm the only one who left the block and turned the car 'round
And picked my niggas up, sorry if I'm tryna bar out
Stop judgin' buddy loss if you don't show him ways of winnin'
Stop sayin', "Free the homie," if you know that nigga did it
Is it ballot or the bullet? 'Cause I'm votin' for the killin'
We gon' burn this bitch down, put the fire to the ceilin', nigga, uh
[Verse 8: AZ Chike]
Bitch, you know it's first Sunday like Katt Williams
Blow her back out, then I hit it while her back healin'
Catch 'em out back, backdoor 'em, then I'm back chillin'
Weak bitch, peaked in high school, can't get back that feelin', uh
Yeah, that's right, the wanna DAZN, box me in
But I ain't going without a fight
Bitch, the whip so white, I had to let it read my rights
It be the niggas I'm better than sayin' they can't see the hype, tough (One, two, three, let's go)
[Verse 9: Tyler, The Creator]
Ayy, ayy, my mama prayed for me, but I still keep blammer (Yup)
Your bitch is not bad, you just have low standards
I'm him, bow down, nigga, where is your manners? (Come on)
When I walk in, phone down, I don't like cameras (Come on)
If that big fella catch you, I can't help you
I'm Santa, got a big bag with a elf, too
Two car keys, seven M's on the belt loop
And I skrrt off, tires smell like I melt boot
[Verse 10: AZ Chike]
Big feet, big Chike, bitch, I got big dick
Your attitude don't match your pockets, wait a minute, big ick, ugh
Been called the blitz, she turned around, hit stick, ugh
Career on tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, boom
I got way too much confidence for a bitch
I got way too much chip and dip on a hoe
I got way too much, I can't keep it on the low, hm
I got way too much, huh, I got way too much
