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Produced by: Tyler, The Creator |
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<Intro: Dr. TC> |
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Tyler we ah, I know it's short notice but I brought all your friends here |
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For some reason I couldn't get a hold of Taco and Jasper |
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But, I just brought all your friends to talk to you |
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Because, they're really worried about you |
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I thought it would be better if, they could talk to you |
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<Verse 1: Domo> |
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It was all a dream, I used to read Complex magazines |
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When I rhyme I'm tryna get pictures in High Times |
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Smoke trees and see my dreams hanging in the sky line |
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Swanton bomb off the bed into a fine dime |
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In my mind I'm just tryna smoke the finest |
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And get high sticking bad heinas in *******s |
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I'm the flyest when it come to this, fire when I come to spit |
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I am getting higher when the lighter comes in front of this |
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I'm a stoner yeah, yeah, yeah you get the picture now |
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30 thousand feet gon' make it hard for me to simmer down |
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Another flight, another beat, another city, wow |
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Thus another couple ******* crying when I kick 'em out |
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Where we at? We on top of the world |
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<Verse 2: Frank Ocean> |
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And five minutes from suicide, I biked it to the park |
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I walked onto the block, met a guy, burgundy 'Preme snap-back |
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Hurling himself at cars, and flirting with blonde Cadillacs |
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All was gray, all was gray, Frankie had the blues in fact |
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Bunch of pale hipster girls, pretty, but they booty flat |
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Teenage males, couldn't tell I was going through it |
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Had a wallet full of cream, Amex Green, Beamer almost black |
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Parked in front the studio Bastard's recorded at |
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Earl, Gilbert, Tyler, Hodgy, Domo, Left, Taco, Nakel |
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Sydney, Lionel, Juan, Michael, Jasper, Hal and Matt |
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Bet I'm missing several but I had to bring that pattern back |
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We live inside a house that says ******* 'em on the welcome mat |
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Deep inside the ear c*******s of Bill O'Reilly's daughter that's |
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Where I'm at? Now where we at? Wolf Gang, where we at? |
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<Verse 3: Hodgy> |
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Swell motions get promotions, to my whole team |
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Hell yeah I smoke **** cause I like to go green |
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Professor Beats educates *******s, let me proceed |
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Shine chandelier bright might make your nose bleeds |
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We at Randy's ordering that 306 |
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Milk and glaze is the greed gold mix me |
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Your ******* is coming along, yeah she hum to my song |
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Singing like they were for her, but they were for the blur |
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No longer, but we were in premature, immature |
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She's unsure, I'm for sure, blouse and dress and my shirt |
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On the floor then pick it up, out the door, door |
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Chased, an imaginary friend, a reverie absorption |
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Impregnate the dream 'til it has an abortion |
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Where we at? We on top of the world |
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<Verse 4: Mike G> |
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Everything they say I'd never have, I'm seeing |
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Now, I bet they see that we balling like All-Star Weekend |
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Always been the most cool, they chase our shade |
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They say life switches pace when you got ******* made |
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So I'm just tryna get paid, don't you remember the days |
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When your dreams were the only thing that kept you sane |
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And too often they think that they could stop me |
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Now every show we makin' half a Maserati |
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And the only thing blocking me is paparazzi |
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Now it's gold Rolex's if they try to clock me |
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Everything stays in the box like fighters in hockey |
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Miss me if you're thinking we slack, work hard |
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I got the world saying every single Friday is black |
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Took your *******, you ain't getting her back, cause she know |
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Where we at *******? We on top of the world |
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<Interlude: Tyler> |
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Where we at, *******s? |
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Where the ******* we at, man? You *******s don't know me, huh |
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Where we at? |
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<Verse 5: Tyler> |
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Down to *******g Earth, huh, down to *******g Earth, huh |
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******* everybody, here goes some extra girth Sir |
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You *******g critics are making my nerves hurt |
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Since I'm saying ******* everybody I guess that I'm a *******g pervert |
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My window is a book and I'm a *******g crook |
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Stealing phones to call home but the line is off the hook |
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My mom ain't paid the bill, guess I can't pay it either |
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I ain't signed a *******g deal yet |
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But when I do Clancy and Dave are taking percentages |
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That could pay the whole *******g city's mortgage |
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Hopefully I make a lot of porridge from touring in *******g Oregon |
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From playing piano organs and hopefully I can pay the bill |
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******* is getting real, people begin to feel |
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Like I'm changing, but their complaining making big *******g deals |
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About some *******, they ******* and pout |
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(Can we get backstage man?) No, *******, it's sold out |
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(Come on why you holding out, I though we was boys, without me |
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You wouldn't be Tyler the Creator, you're from the Dirty |
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I can tell whenever you perform, a leopard can't change it's spots) |
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But I'm a *******g unicorn (Whatever man) |
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Look, you can't stop me, I'm going full monty |
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******* that, I'm ******, everyone's a *******g **** |
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Wolf Gi-di-dang you be roaming where the fox be |
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And I be where, anybody cares |
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I try to preach "******* age, live dreams and have fun" |
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(Here’s some give a *******, cake) Oh, maybe I should have some |
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(*******, have none) How can I wake up on the wrong side |
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Of the bed, when I don't even *******g have one? |
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When I'm on that stage I feel important |
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A whole *******g assortment of children that's taking Ritalin |
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Because the teacher said that the therapist wasn't feeling him |
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You gotta be *******g kidding me |
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At school I was a zero, now I'm every boy's hero and they fear it |
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You can hear it when that little ******* is reciting my lyrics, yeah I'm rebel ******* |
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Cheer it, dead parents everywhere, it's smelling like teen spirit |
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Okay, ******* it, Elvis has left the building |
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<Gunshots> |
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