[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 Domyen, shouts out to Frankie Ocean Shouts out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy Awwwwk
[Verse 1: Tyler the Creator] Big eared bandit is tossin' all his manners In a bag and wrappin' them in Saran wrap bandages Tossin' 'em in baskets with the rest of those sandwiches So when he says \"Catch up, nigga\" it looks like an accident Um, flowin' like my pad is the maxiest My bitch white and black like she's been mimickin' a panda It's the dark skinned nigga, kissin' 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 Ableton Not a fuckin' Logic contradictin' dick head Flyer than an ostrich moshin' 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 It's me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Golf Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy Beats] To have some type of knowledge that is one perception But knowin' you own your opponent is a defeatin' 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 joustin' I'm on my Robin Hood shit, robbing in the hood Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm stealin' your rims Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' boot And salute like the troop when you shoot you gon' brrrooop 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 tryna smoke, bitch get higher Domo where that Flocka Flame? Talking '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 Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the black jack The king Mike G is in the cut with the black mac We like the mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up And if these haters acting 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 'em flossing in KAWS, exes next to coffins Lost in translation, the dreams you chase Got you diving for the plates like you stealing home base That's great, I'm home alone dreaming of two on ones With Rihanna and Christina Milian, bring it on And Travis is in the closet organizing and hanging the tramp Three lettermans that Ace has been making him No strays while we catching matinees, huh? I'm getting 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 still And if I said it then it is or it's gonna be...