Tyler’s bean scene

Yo, it’s Tyler in the house and he’s bringin’ the heat, But it ain’t from the mic, it’s the gas from his seat. Everywhere we go, man, it’s straight up obscene, ‘Cause Tyler won’t stop munchin’ on them refried beans. He got a can in his hand, one tucked in his jeans, Snackin’ like a machine—he the legume king. We beg him to chill, take a break from the feast, But he laughs, lets it rip—Tyler’s airbeast unleashed! Fartin’ in the morning, fartin’ late at night, Beans for his breakfast, beans for his life. Stinkin’ up the room, man, it’s kind of alarming, Tyler on that gas like his butt’s full of karma. Yo, Tyler’s got no shame, just a big ol’ grin, He says, “Beans are protein!” and digs right in. He clears out the room with a single blow, And blames the dog—but we all know. We tried Beano, Febreze, even begged on our knees, But Tyler just farted and said, “More beans, please!” He’s crop-dustin’ halls, he’s a one-man storm, It’s a symphony of stink, and it’s his art form. Fartin’ in the morning, fartin’ late at night, Beans for his breakfast, beans for his life. Stinkin’ up the room, man, it’s kind of alarming, Tyler on that gas like his butt’s full of karma. So if you see Tyler, just walk the other way, Unless you like the smell of chili all day. We love the dude, but we need a break, From the thunder in his pants and the tremors he makes. Tyler, chill with the beans, bro.