[Intro: Tyler the Creator & A$AP Rocky]
That’s hot and horny
Don’t say sh** like that
You gon’ start me from the top? Listen
Shout out Harlem, man
Shout out A$AP Rocky, man
AWGE in the building, man
What’s good? Is that potato salad?
Yo, listen
[Verse 1: Tyler the Creator]
n***as give me the cold shoulder, I can speak for myself
So I keep a high waist and alligator the belt
And got a belt with the holster, I ain’t playing games
But got some lil’ n***as who would do it, so I pa** the controller
You get pressed and X out, tri-angle your nose
Pause your life if you squares try to mess with my O’s, whoa
So cut the crap like sh** barbers
‘Cause we really with the beef like closeted gay fathers
n***a we get dollars, give ’em to Ben Baller
Exchange for them chains that’s all shiny with thick water
I got back pains, neck heavy like whipped cream
My whip clean, and they all white, I whip cream
And cop boys, and I joy stick, I whip cream and cop cribs
I got more space than big jeans, y’all sleeping on me
Explain why they got sh** dreams, I’m alien
Got the laser gun with the big beam
Married to the money, my b**h green
No I don’t sip lean, but ride around in rockets like Yao Ming
Y’all n***as weak
They thought I was goofy and all mouses
Double C my luggage and fill them with Comme blouses
Y’all cop kush, my n***a I cop houses
And fill em with some Leo DiCap’s and Cole Sprouses, n***a
Where we, Rocky, A$AP, GOLF boy, where we at, n***a in Pari’
[Verse 2: A$AP Rocky]
f** clothes I cop pieces
Couple thots with me and them hoes is like divas
Got my Vans on but they look like sneakers
Flipped a couple packs, BasedGod in the speakers
Ba** all in the speakers
In the field like baseball, play ball
Face wall when polices come
I don’t rock Chanel, I rock channel
And no this ain’t a purse, it’s a satchel
Bless at you, nah I ain’t sneeze
But if n***as want steam or smoke, bet I match you
Got a bullet with your name on the barrel
If hollows don’t clip, you get nip like it’s catfood
That dude, when I die they gotta make a statue
Bad attitude this ain’t a purse it’s a satchel
Go to any n***a with money up in my bracket
Then I think about the state of rapping
All the freshmans in the cla**es
All the super seniors mumblin’ and ramblin’
Mumblin and rappin’
Mumble rapping?
I find it hard to find actual talent
I find it hard to find a actual challenge
I’m like Shabazz Palace’s last acid hit, elaborate
Rap Lab’s labyrinth
Word to Kodak’s Black’s Lazaruth
Calldrops on the album skits
[Verse 3: Tyler the Creator]
Ayo
I’m the channel that you watch, I’m the ammo in the Glock
Weird n***a, full suit with the sandals and the socks, stop
And based on my neck boy
You would think I hate gla** homes way I’m handling the rocks
Who cast the first stone? b**h it’s me, f** you thought?
Real grunge n***a, I ain’t got a flannel as the top
And I’m picking up guitar, strum n***a
Bum n***as wish they could make a Garden Shed
But they sleeping on me man like their arm is dead
I’m a wild n***a boy, and you farmer bred born
You ain’t animal, you are corn
[Outro: Tyler the Creator]
K shiz, what up n***a!