[Intro: Taco]
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Yo, shout out to everybody that worked on the album
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You feel me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas
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Shouts out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle
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Shouts out to Domyon, shouts out to Frankie Ocean
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Shouts out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy Awk
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[Verse 1: Tyler the Creator]
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Big eared bandit is tossing all his manners
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In a bag and wrapping them in seran wrap bandages
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Tossing them in baskets with the rest of those sandwiches
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So when he says "catch up, nigga" it looks like an accident
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Um, flowing like my pad is the maxiest
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My bitch white and black like she's been mimicking a panda
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It's the dark skinned nigga, kissing bitches in Canada
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Then kicking all out like Mr. Lawrence did Pamela
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Put her in the chamber all against her Wilt Chamberlain
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I never had a reason, nigga, I was just able
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Not a fucking Logic contradicting dick head
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Flyer than an ostrich moshing in a tar pit
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Semen scented cheetah printed tee
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In that 'Preme five panel, I'll repeat it for the season
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Previous items in the present
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With the normal ass past like I cheated on my team
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Man (tried to get that nigga, but, Golf Wang)
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[Verse 2: Hodgy Beats]
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To have some type of knowledge that is one perception
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But knowing you own your opponent is a defeating bonus
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I'm Zeus to a Kronos
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Cartilage cartridge is boneless
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Smiles of cowards in lead showers
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Dead spouses in red blouses
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Children who fled houses on Mustang horses and went jousting
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I'm on my Robin Hood shit
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Robbin' in the hood: whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet
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Stealing your rings, coke diamonds and your Vet
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Soldiers lace the fuckin' boot
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And salute like the troop when you shoot you gon' poop
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It's Killhodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my stoop
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And out my Kool aid, Juice
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[Verse 3: Left Brain]
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Hodgy got the juice, I got the gin
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Jasper got the Henny, my nigga we get it in
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Wolf Gang party at the hotel
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I call a ho, you call a ho, and all the hoes tell
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You know Left Brain need a freak
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I need a bitch to go down like a Nitty beat
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Yup, uh, and her ass fat
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Don't be surprised if I ask where the hash at
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Nigga I'm tryin' to smoke, bitch get higher
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Domo where that Flocka Flame? Talkin' 'bout a lighter
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Still bang salute me or just shoot me
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Cause if you don't salute me then my team will do the shooting
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Yea my nigga Ace will pull the black jack
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The king Mike G is in the cut with the black mac
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Livin' like the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up
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And if these haters actin' up, throw 'em in the aqueduct
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Free my nigga Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much
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But two bad bitches in front of me cunnilingus
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[Verse 4: Mike G]
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What the fuck is caution?
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Often I leave you flossin' and cause exes next to coffins
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Lost in translation, the dreams you chase
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Got you diving for the plates like you stealin' home base
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That's great - I'm home alone dreamin' of two on ones
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With Rihanna and Christina Milian, bring it on
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And Travis is in the closet organizing and hangin' the tramp
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Three lettermans that Ace has been makin' him
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No strays while we catchin' matinees, huh?
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I'm gettin' blazed thinking 'bout those days
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I had the top off the GT3 like toupees
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One finger in the air, all's fair when crime pays
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My grand scheme of things
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Is to be attached to the game like bitches to their wedding rings
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And you don't even need to look
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Cause we gleam obscene in the light
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Ride slow to my yellow diamond shining like the Batman logo over Gotham
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Rock LA to Harlem
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If you say "get 'em Mike G" then I got 'em
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One man squadron, nigga I'm a problem
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From Briggs I got bars and plans to
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Pimp these Polish bitches into pop stars
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Humanity kills, we all suffer from insanity still
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And if I said it then it is or it's gonna be real
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OF 'til I OD and I probably will, uh
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[Verse 5: Domo Genesis]
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It's still Mr. Smoke-a-lot-of-pot
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Get your baby mommy popped with my other snobby bop
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Do I love her, prolly not
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Know your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop
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Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, like Macaulay Cock
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I've been runnin' blocks since a snotty tot
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| Big wheel was a big de |
