[Childish Gambino]
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Is it really that bad that my clothes is tight?
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That I hydrate babes like Pedialyte
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That I stay rock hard like a meteorite
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Thought your homeboy here was an idiot right?
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Welllll you thought wrong, I got flavor
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I rock shows with the blue light sabre
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I hit dimes but also date eighters
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I make moves, blow up like Al'Qaeda
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I'm in kicks that you can't buy yet
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Your kicks okay like your name Wyatt
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Care Bear clockers, pink highlighters
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Haters wanna snack my heat like firefighters
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Boys out there think they're just like me
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Naw naw, y'all funny, y'all from UCB?
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Y'all standin in line, I'm in V.I.P.
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Y'all know shit 'bout me like T.I.P., hah!
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[Chorus]
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[skatting and harmonizing]
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[MC Chris]
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You think your voice is funny man? That's kind of hilarious
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I'm the rapper makin money when the shadow in your area
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I'm like a damager cause I'm a little loquacious
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I do it for the hotties with the bodies bodacious
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I'm high pitched, might flip you diss my node
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Think chris ain't the shit, you can kiss my chode
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Kick your ass, sales not too early to boast
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Seriously bro, hand over the security code
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Because my rhymes so fresh, green grocers' gotta spray 'em
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Fired all my lawyers cause I didn't wanna pay 'em
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From the P.M. to the A.M. I'll slay 'em with the sawed-off
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Make a little money and I'll smoke the marijuana
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mc without Glover is Matubb without Wigs
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Jammin peed the bottle with the grocer on her kids
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If one smokes Khan, the other smokes Mids
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Let's mix it up a little like the DJ did
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Bacardi and Coke, black and white cookie
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Smokin in the alley cause you know we're playin hookie
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and we're up to no good, please don't tell our mommas
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Democrist is the dutch, cause we got this for Obama
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[Chorus]
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[Childish Gambino]
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Sick of the Old Yeller, money like bank tellers
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The chicks that I'm with are thicker thank Nutella
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Y'all need to switch quick and get with a slick fella
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Cause I'm bout to go Rihanna like I'm an umbrella
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Come over to my place, we can cut like shears
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And make some mistakes like Jamie Lynn Spears
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I'm nasty? No - forward? Yes
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I'm hip to the game, you're a rook like chess
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My money so long that they call it John Silver's
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Your money so light that it float like pillows
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Oopsy, killers, you can see
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Cause they close up shop when the clerks see me
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I'm not Kanye, but my collar's popped
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Cause the bro's like soda, I shit you not
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This shit's bright orange, Fanta shade
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You got the yellow face, that's my lemonade
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I'mma try to stay tight like girls that fuck hard
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And stay in the Bay with green like Brett Farve
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[four bars of silence]
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[Chorus - to end]
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-----------------
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Tru Dudes
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Childish Gambino |