Session (ft. BrandUn DeShay, Hodgy Beats & Mike G)
[Verse 1: Tyler, The Creator] I'm Tyler, Mr. Green Hat, pro-abortion anti-clean rap Fuck your blog opinion and your feedback My self-respect I leave that, in the lost and found Where the black girls get their weaves back Awesome I achieve that mini, blasting "You're a jerk" In some fucking yellow skinnies looking like a fucking faggot Bouncing 'round the house trying to find an easy way to rape Minnie Bet you thirty dollars you find her like Cartman found Kenny, dead I like my girls smart, skinny Kinda pop tart, when I bite into them red I'm a self-racist, you should tape this, ask Sarah, I'm the rapist I'm a fascist, fuck fashion, Gucci belts is for them faggots My hat is by Jabbia, and if you got a fucking problem With the future, you can get a death wish just like Atiba Fuck the biz apparent, Odd Future errant I'm watching the Berrics getting head from someone's parent Blind fucking hate inside my heart, guaranteed That I'm sharing in the force with the cyclops staring I'm flying on a beaver, you're a disbeliever So don't ask for no mothafuckin' ride when you see us Swim right past you, the shit-list said that I'm nutty such a cashew Cause I jack off with dish soap and smell gas fumes Permanent brain damage similar to tattoos The shit, you can mention me if anybody ask you Kill the jungle let the cats loose You didn't see me here if someone ask you
[Verse 2: Hodgy Beats] I want to feel her in every way Mary Jane keeps me high like every day Bong, vaporizer, in the sack now Stuck in my high, afraid of heights, I'm trapped Buy a swisher for a dollar or two blunt wraps Roll it up and ensure that everything's fat She ain't got time to try and relieve ya But she'll get all in your head, Sativa
[Verse 3: BranDun Deshay] I'm good but y'all don't want me like vegetables I'm all in front of you zeroes like decimals Let's take them high like the decibels So we get them high, get them high like cholesterol In a overweight mother-lover, my tracks is filled with blubber That's fat, who needs another producer? Chica-Go-Getter from Odd Future, used to ride solo Cause I ain't really care what the rest say Type of nigga to jerk off to his own sex tape Best stay away when the door closed, I show up with four hoes Best believe I'm leaving with more of those And I got a girlfriend so I'm a keep lying until the verse end, FIN Brandun Deshay, Hodgy Beats, Ace the Creator Odd Future, O.F. until, until from now until forever
[Alternate Verse 3: Mike G] We grind, these niggas asking for some promo We sit back, observe, stacking hella box logos Square circle jerks starting O.F. moshpit Preaching to the poets, I'm an O.F. prophet No less profit, fiened when we drop shit Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split It's that crack, give you something to sell Put these bitches on lock down, something like jail Thought she hot I swear, probably rougher than hell And she ain't gay, but the only thing she like is fucking Chanel Light skinned women, all sex everything Think we can fit ten in, bowls packed with everything Everything that we call flight, living life This is everything that we call hype I'm everything that they call nice She in colors and shit, she off that northern lights, right Intimidated by niggas you can't be I'm a G, and this is something you can't see Top ranked, number one my son And she looking for them trees, baby we got some And stay focused on the women and you get less done It's ironic cause I always hear you talking about one Them other niggas smoke, they ain't this high How high? Nigga, higher than the kites they fly