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odd future - oldie ft. xxxtentacion [unofficial collab] lyrics
[verse 1: tyler, the creator]
the 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, n_gga,” it looks like an accident
um, flowing like my pad is the maxiest
my b_tch white and black like she’s been mimicking a panda
it’s the dark_skinned n_gga, kissing b_tches 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, n_gga, i was just ableton
not a f_cking logic_contradicting d_ckhead (not a logic)
flyer than an ostrich moshing in a tar pit
s_m_n_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
[verse 2: mike g]
(we out here)
what the f_ck 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 b_tches 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, n_gga, i’m a problem
from briggs, i got bars and plans to
pimp these polish b_tches into pop stars
humanity k!lls, we all suffer from insanity still
and if i said it then it is or it’s gonna be real
of ’til i od and i probably will, uh
[interlude: jasper dolphin]
goddammit!
rapping is stupid and it’s hard
gotta do it over and over and over again but here it go
[verse 3: jasper dolphin]
hey, it’s jasper, not even a rapper
only on this beat to make my racks grow faster
got a tv show, so i guess i’m an actor
pothead, half_baked, lookin’ like chappelle
rollin’ up a blunt with that fire from h_ll (woo)
still ignorant, still hit a b_tch (wow)
wolf gang, n_gga, so i still don’t give a sh_t (woo)
catch me in the back with miley’s on my lap (sh_t)
bong rips as i feel on that little b_tch cat (cat)
[interlude: jasper dolphin]
hah, n_gga came through with a 9_bar real quick
just for the b_tches, little bit of money in my pocket
f_ck it, wolf gang
[verse 4: xxxtentacion]
p_ssy popper
young waka flocka
we shakin’ like maracas
don’t forget sinatra
my b_tch is like rihanna
betty yet beyoncé
had to take her top off, gun shots’a pop off
mi nuh f_ck ’round with dem bwoy dem, dem
bwoy dem get chop off
tell di bwoy fi gwaan fi him
gyal and suck him bloodclaat
d_ck stains let my d_ck hang like a nunchuk
anyway, i can’t b_tch, i’m just tryna get my nut sucked
hah, so f_ck luck
b_tch, it’s pure sk!ll when i gun bust
glocks like .50 on my n_ggas, acupuncture
f_ck like, it’s a sh_t night
get your mind right, only way a n_gga coolin’ if i get high, right?
high up in the sky, right?
motherf_cka’ cloud all my n_ggas in the ground right now
and i bash like zao, like pow
mind within the comic, i’m so high right now
so pass that
skinny motherf_cker, won’t you tell me where the cash at?
i’m about to end a n_gga life so where the stash at?
got about 20 f_ckin’ mil’, just chilling in my backpack
call a fat b_tch then i hit it in her ass crack
[verse 5: tyler, the creator]
of, sh_t, that’s all i got
from my bigger brother frankie to my little brother tac
from that father figure clancy to that skatey n_gga nak
shreddin’ down ‘fax, wolf gang run the f_ckin’ block
storefront, knee tat
book cover is the same lettering on lettermans and cotton socks
and grip tape… and my shoes
um, i was fifteen when i first drew that donut
five years later, for our label, yeah, we own it
i started an empire, i ain’t even old enough
to drink a f_cking beer, i’m tipsy off this soda pop
this is for the n_ggers in the suburbs
and the white kids with n_gga friends that say the n_word
and the ones who got called weird, f_g, b_tch, nerd
’cause you was into jazz, kitty cats and steven spielberg
they say we ain’t actin’ right
always try to turn our f_ckin’ color into black and white
but they’ll never change ’em, never understand ’em
radical’s my anthem, turn my f_ckin’ amps up
so instead of critiquing and b_tchin’, bein’ mad as f_ck
just admit, not only are we talented, we’re rad as f_ck, b_tches
[outro: tyler, the creator]
ofm, banging on your fm
gnaw, 2011, yeah
golf w_ng
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