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[Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator] After filling my reputation of whore beaters Soared to Taco Bell and I ordered some gorditas (Mmm, that's good!) Wanted four more, ordered 'em, didn't eat 'em Then head to Thebe's house for some gymnastics Fantastic, I backflip on this beat B Cause we running shit like the Dingleberry's on four cheetahs Flow colder than Papa Joe's or Domino's (Fuck it, whatever, um) Trashwang scratched inside the knucks Got some One Direction tickets, I should hit that up Drive by with puppy signs plastered on the truck Then see how many of they fans could fit inside the trunk Move over the microwave and the cannabis Try to take the van and the whole band to Canada Fuck the block news and the venues, they can't handle us They can't stand us including fruits that Frank's channeling The Ku Klux Klan see me and my managers But thank me when they ask where the Five Panels is (fuck) Man, I suck now, I ain't still dope (nope) But Chris and Rihanna's fuckin' again so there's still hope Oh fuck, I went there, balling bitch, I'm Ben's hair Y'all barely breaking like Taco's self-esteem in a thin chair Old Navy bitches love this gap, yeah this grin's rare Watch a nigga smile like five-year-old child I'm kicking it with Nak and the nigga from Green Mile, it's Red Bull in this cup so a nigga may seem wild but SongtexteThat's just all the sherm I was burning a little while ago Don't let me get hold of that rifle Shout my nigga Sage Elsseser and Sean Pablo Surrounded by them niggas that skate with a sick style And some freckled bitches with giant peaches that's vile They never did catch that rhino [Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt] Squadron full of some lost souls Sergeant of all, it's autumn and Nak just nollied a pothole Non-cooperative with his momma's wishes for college And coppers labeled a problem since paying for Damianos So shimmy through the swamp, nigga, follow me through the foxholes Moral Orenthal with a pretty bitch in a Bronco Hopped right off the seven and stumbled into some Vatos Threw a punch, got jumped, dusted off and then walked home Shit, it's like 6 p.m. and his temple throbbing Hand in the cabinet by seven, sniff the prescription oxies Logo in the boxes, all my niggas hostile Cautious of your crosses, scoffing at your doctrines Bitches augmented stupid as the group is Only slightly, write precise to get a pussy nigga two chins Man these stitches shut the loose lips, stumbled in a Ruth's Chris Slid into a booth and hid the luggage from his shroom trips See, Lionel ball with Leonardo on the weekend now And Maui on a scenic route, we on the second season now Small fry got 'em seasons salty, weeded, coughing Ease up off me, end is breathing easy as bulimics barfing From a different breed of doggy, from a different seed and cloth And teeing off, believe it's Golf Wang, nigga Aus Songtexte Mania