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