[Intro: Childish Gambino] When we were coming down they said it was too soon I never had to lie no no no no When we were coming down, they left us all alone We're headed nowhere, nowhere. I know you've been around I feel you in and out, how are you? Do you sleep? Are you with me? We used to be unspoken Now everything is broken I'm a good son I'm a good son You're a good son You're a good son
[Bridge] Free information, free information Free information, free informa-ma
[Verse 1: Childish Gambino] Arlanda hotel to the bar Young girl with an accent with her back bent Ass out to the whole world We can vibe out for tonight Stepping outside for a light No coke, and I just smoke vapor, no papers Slow poke and I don't know 'bout photos Let's go though How old are you? Saying that you never date older dudes That's why I never wanna say no to you The coldest dude to hold a groove with no kids The coldest dude who can't hold his goose "I'ma walk out; wanna walk too?" What about dude? "Fuck him, I actually wanna feel something"
[Bridge: Kilo Kish] It took me like five minutes to figure out what voices those were, on the phone But I figured it out...
Is it real, cause you're online (x4)
[Bridge] I'm a freaky bitch I am 5 foot 8, 390 And I am a freaky bitch
[Verse 2: Childish Gambino] Heathen It's a struggle just to keep breathing Existential asthmatic, puff puff pass addict Crafmatic, making moves but they sleeping on me We can kick it like it's FIFA, homie Nevertheless, I got that fresh like it was Crest Crying cause I'm stressed. TMJ or TMI, it's a lie that you're living I never understood the hate on a nigga's preference When every marriage is a same sex marriage Same sex everyday, monotonous Lost god never pray, forgotten us Lost love, never say just like our parents Too much power ain't enough power Brain splattered like I've fallen off a Watchtower And anybody can walk into any Denny's And wait until I'm walking in it with a gun that they 3D printed and finish it Kinison said if you gonna miss heaven... Why do it by two inches? Old money and new bitches