[Intro: Yo, shout out to everybody that worked on the You feel me, son? Yo, out to Ty Dollas Shouts out to Daddies, shouts out to Left Brizzle Shouts out to Domyon, out to Frankie Ocean out to Syd the Dude, shouts out to L-Boy Awk [Verse 1: the Creator] Big eared is tossin' all his manners In a bag and wrappin' them in seran bandages 'em in baskets with the rest of those sandwiches So when he says "Catch up, nigga" it looks like an Um, like my pad is the maxiest My bitch white and black like been mimickin' a panda It's the dark nigga, kissin' bitches in Canada Then kicking all out Mr. Lawrence did Pamela Put her in the all against her Wilt Chamberlain I never had a Reason, nigga I was just Not a Logic contradictin' dick head Flyer an ostrich moshin' in a tar pit scented cheetah printed tee In that 'Preme five panel, repeat it for the season Previous in the present With the normal ass past like I on my team It's me (Tried to get that nigga, but, Wang) [Verse 2: Beats] To have some type of knowledge that is one But knowin' you own your is a defeatin' bonus I'm Zeus to a Kronos, cartridge is boneless Smiles of cowards in lead showers, dead in red blouses Children who fled houses on Mustang horses and went I'm on my Hood shit, robbing in the hood Whips, drugs, jewels, and your pet, I'm stealin' your Coke diamonds and your Vet, soldiers lace the fuckin' And salute the troop when you shoot you gon' poop KillHodgy, nigga, stay the fuck off my stoop And out my aid, Juice [Verse 3: Brain] got the juice, I got the gin Jasper got the Henny, my we get it in Wolf Gang party at the I call a ho, you a ho, and all the hoes tell You know Brain need a freak I a bitch to go down like a Nitty beat Yup, uh, and her ass fat be surprised if I ask where the hash at Nigga I'm tryna smoke, get higher where that Flocka Flame? Talking 'bout a lighter Still bang me or just shoot me Cause if you don't salute me my team will do the shooting Yeah my nigga Ace will pull the jack The king G is in the cut with the black mac like the Mafia, bitch, don't get to slacking up And if haters acting up, throw 'em in the aqueduct my nigga Earl, yo, I don't really ask for much But two bad bitches in front of me 4: Mike G] What the is caution? Often I leave you flossing and cause exes next to in translation, the dreams you chase Got you for the plates like you stealing home base That's great, I'm home alone of two on ones With Rihanna and Christina Milian, it on And is in the closet organizing and hanging the tramp Three lettermans that Ace has making him No strays while we catching matinees, I'm getting blazed thinking those days I had the top off the GT3 like One finger in the air, all's fair crime pays My scheme of things is to be attached To the game bitches to their wedding rings And you don't even need to look we gleam obscene In the light, ride slow to my yellow diamond Like the logo over Gotham, rock LA to Harlem If you say "Get 'em G" then I got 'em One man squadron, nigga I'm a Briggs I got bars and plans to Pimp these Polish bitches pop stars Humanity kills, we all suffer insanity still And if I said it then it is or it's be real OF 'til I OD and I will, uh [Verse 5: Genesis] It's still Mr. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get your mommy popped With my other snobby bop, do I love prolly not your shit is not as hot as anything I fuckin' drop Bitch I'm in the zone, stand alone, Macaulay Cock I've been blocks since a snotty tot Big wheel was a big deal with the Glocks Now I'm all grown, sing songs just to give 'em what I talk, but still cooler than an Otter Pop Op Dom neck shit in your list Mad sick shit, mad for your bitches On some shit, your mistress on my hit list And I'm lifted 'til I'm stiff out of bitch Odd in your area clots give me five feet 'fore I bury ya Suicide flow, let the big wave ya got the mask like he held Jim Carrey up And fuck team, ho nigga wassup Wolf Gang so you know we not no fucks You me dog, I'm a chill in the cut so I can Cut it short, break it down, couple pounds, it up Get me a Persian rug where the looks like Galaga [Verse 6: Frank Rent a car for a day Drive with your friends, smoke a gram of that haze Bro, easy on the ounce, a lot for a day But enough for a week, my nigga what can I say I'm hi and I'm Bi, wait, I I'm straight I'mma you this wine, the runner just brought the grapes My brother give it time, Morris, and Day Course you know the as fly as the rhymes On the song, cut and you could sample the Headphone bleed, this shit sound real Used to work the grill, and fries Then I made a mil and them was liars Now, how many crystal balls can I buy and own Humble old me had to for the fogs Down in Muscle Beach iron and bone oldies off my cellular phone Yeah, oldies off my cellular phone Goddammit, this is stupid and it's hard Gotta do it and over and over again but here I go [Verse 7: Dolphin] Hey Jasper, not even a rapper Only on beat to make my racks grow faster Got a TV show, so I guess I'm an Pot head, half baked, lookin' like up a blunt with that fire from hell Still ignorant, still hit a Wolf Gang, nigga, so I still give a shit Catch me in the with Miley on my lap Bong rips as I feel on little bitch cat Hah, nigga came through with a 9 bar real for the bitches, little bit of money in my pocket Fuck it, Gang 8: Earl Sweatshirt] Yeah, fuck that, look, for contrast is a pair of Swallowin' sarapin, settin' to sheriffs whips (Whoosp, whoosp) fuckin' All-American Crushin' rapper larynx to feed 'em a carrot stick And me? I spent a year Ferrisin' And lost a little sanity to you what hysterics is Spit to the lips meet the of a barrel So that sterile piss remind these niggas where embarrassed is Narrow, tight line, impair him since I made it back to Fahrenheit, grimey get dinero Feral, fuckin' ill apparel, wearin' pack of Threw his own youth off the after paradise La di da di, back in to fuck the party up Raidin' fridges, tippin' vases with a tommy gun Never dollars, poppa make it rain hockey And 60 day chips from fuckin' anonymous him bloated 'til he show 'em that the flow deluxe Off the loafers, Four Loko, and a cobra clutch bold and rough, evoke a ho to pose as drum And let me hit and beat it with a until the hole was numb The culprit of the punch Scoldin' hot as scrotum in a Folgers cup Or Nevada, drivin' drunk inside a stolen Shittin' like his colon Belly full of and a fifth of old petroleum Supernova, I'm rollin' over the I'm through the forest and spittin' cold as the porridge is Stay gold 'til the closed and the story end Post porkin' this rap shit and record it To escort it to the morgue again, lord of Bored of this, forklift the tippy top, under 40 list the gate, ensurin' the bass Scorchin' motherfucker sore in torso and face Get at me with savages, have a of Apache Indian pack of niggas who don't give a fuck if we as flatulence As a of fact, your swagger is tacky So see me you like Crunchy Black catchin' a taxi Back lateral passin' With that gladiator manner of rappin' As an addict I let Percocet and Xannies me Fall back if paddies is Maxi, please 9: Tyler the Creator] OF, that's all I got From my bigger brother Frankie to my little Tac From that father Clancy to that skatey nigga Naks Shredding down 'Fax, Gang run the fucking block Storefront, tat Book cover is the lettering on lettermans and cotton socks And grip tape...and my Um, I was 15 I first drew that donut 5 years later, for our yea we own it I started an empire, I ain't even old To drink a beer, I'm tipsy off this soda pop This is for the in the suburbs And the white with nigger friends who say the n-word And the ones that got called weird, fag, bitch, Cause you was into jazz, kitty cats, and Steven They say we acting right Always try to our fucking color into black and white But they'll never change 'em, never 'em Radical's my anthem, turn my fucking up So of critiquing and bitching, being mad as fuck Just admit, not only are we talented, rad as fuck, bitches OFM, on your FM Gnaw, 2011, yeah, Wang