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Tyler The Creator’s “Big Poe” packs punchy lyricism, brash confidence, and layered production into a bold opening track off his ninth album, featuring Pharrell Williams and a Busta Rhymes sample.
Tyler, The Creator returns with “Big Poe,” the opening track from his latest 10-song project. Clocking in at under 30 minutes, the album sets the tone fast, and “Big Poe” leads with unapologetic swagger and lyrical intensity. Produced with Pharrell Williams and sampling Busta Rhymes’ “Pass the Courvoisier Part II,” the track blends old-school influence with Tyler’s genre-bending creativity.
The phrase “Big Poe” serves as a metaphor for Tyler’s larger-than-life persona — a mix of power, mystery, and provocation. “Poe” likely references the gothic allure of Edgar Allan Poe, infusing the track with dark confidence and poetic chaos.
Tyler The Creator Big Poe Lyrics
(feat. Pharrell Williams)
Welcome
Number one, body movement (Funky)
No sitting still (Dance, bro)
Number two, (Hahahaha) only speak in glory (Yeah)
Leave your baggage at home (None of that deep shit)
Number three, (Nigga) don’t tap the glass
Roked roked roked l’elohim
Roked roked roked m’elohim
Burn this shit down, turn this shit up
I don’t consent, I don’t give fucks
You on my dick, nigga, get up
Wipe your lips off while I zip up, huh
I’m a sick pup, girl, I’m nasty
Eat the cream pie in the back of the backseat
Yellow diamonds, black skin, I’m taxi
You can run all you want, nigga, you can’t catch me
Big poe, huh, nigga (Ayy)
I’m big poe, huh, nigga (Ayy)
I’m big poe, huh, nigga, bitch (Ayy)
Nigga, I’m big poe, huh, slim (Ayy)
I hate lightskin niggas, on my momma
I like darkskin bitches like my momma
I like lightskin bitches like my daddy
You ain’t like that line? Not my problem
I’m on the plane, tryna fuck her lip off
Switch off, sit on my face, gimme lip gloss
The tint off, that’s not a G5, take that kit off right now
I’m Mario, pipe down
Baby, I’m big poe, huh, nigga (Ayy)
I’m big poe, huh, nigga (Ayy)
I’m big poe, huh, nigga, bitch (Ayy)
Nigga, I’m big poe, huh, slim (Ayy)
Mm, I’m in Paris, where it rains
Married to the game, forty karats in the rings
And what you drive, you can’t compare to the chains
Told my ‘countant, “Hurry up with the plane”
G700, on the globe with eight thousand
Those are extended with the miles in
Virginia, Florida, France is the housin’
I got a bunch of ‘Woods, they are down big
Big poe, huh, nigga (Ayy)
I’m big poe, huh, nigga (Ayy)
I’m big poe, huh, nigga, bitch (Ayy)
Nigga, I’m big poe, huh, slim (Ayy)
No cell phones, this a dead spot (Huh, huh)
You sneak photos, get your hands chopped (Huh, huh)
You weird as fuck, nigga, I said stop (Huh, huh)
I don’t trust white people with dreadlocks
Big dog, ball over here, Sandlot
I’m swimmin’ in the green, I’m a ham hock (Bro)
I get the metal ringin’ like a can top, pop
Don’t this shit make a nigga wanna (Jump, jump)
Don’t this shit make a nigga wanna (Jump, jump)
Don’t this shit make a nigga wanna (Jump, jump)
Don’t this shit make a nigga wanna (Jump, jump)
Don’t this shit make a nigga wanna (Jump, jump)
(Jump, jump)
(Jump, jump)
(Jump, jump)
And they got bitches that want poundin’
Hoe niggas, broke niggas, shouldn’t allow ’em
The diamond’s most brilliant when it’s rounded
You niggas don’t talk to your accountant (Ayy)
Hoppin’ out of baby mommas cars, clownin’ (Ayy)
You ain’t with the bullets flyin’? Get down, then (Ayy)
They ain’t tell you ’bout this drip? Nigga, drown then (Ayy)
Oh, what you wanna get loud then?
Huh, fuck around and get found, then
I like crewnecks, polos and chinos
A mouth full of rocks like Dino
Yellow diamonds, ask Jacob, nigga, he know
Roked roked roked l’elohim (Nigga, he know, nigga, he know)
Roked roked roked m’elohim (Nigga, he know, nigga, he know)
Roked roked roked l’elohim
Roked roked roked m’elohim
Tyler opens with a surreal list of rules, immediately breaking the fourth wall:
Rule 1: “Body movement” – it’s a party, no sitting still.
Rule 2: “Only speak in glory” – leave the drama behind.
Rule 3: “Don’t tap the glass” – a symbolic barrier to his world.
The “Roked roked roked l’elohim” chants act as spiritual or hypnotic invocations, repeating across the song as a haunting mantra.
Tyler’s Signature Bravado
Tyler flexes in classic fashion:
> “Burn this shit down, turn this shit up / I don’t consent, I don’t give fucks”
Lines like these showcase his independence and disregard for industry expectations. He toggles between sexual braggadocio and socio-political jabs — from mocking fake luxury (“that’s not a G5”) to calling out cultural appropriation (“I don’t trust white people with dreadlocks”).
Throughout, he blends crass humor with clever wordplay and emotional honesty, a balance Tyler fans have come to expect.
Cultural Commentary
In his usual unpredictable manner, Tyler challenges traditional beauty and colorism standards in the line:
> “I hate lightskin niggas, on my momma / I like darkskin bitches like my momma”
It’s a provocative take on identity, reflecting on personal bias, family influence, and societal standards — then flipping the narrative with, “You ain’t like that line? Not my problem.”
Sound & Structure
Pharrell’s presence is felt in the slick, bouncy beat layered with punchy kicks, retro synths, and the throwback sample. Tyler’s delivery vacillates between menacing calm and frenzied yelling, keeping listeners engaged and uncertain of what’s coming next.
The repeated phrase “Don’t this shit make a nigga wanna jump?” echoes classic hype tracks from early 2000s hip hop — giving a nod to nostalgic party energy while keeping the lyrics lyrically sharp.
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