[Tyler, The Creator & DJ Drama] Hey Miss Parker Wait, wait, wait, wait Somethin´ like (Uh-oh) I just cut some fresh lemons, where´s the sugar?
Lemon in my ´ade, lemon in my ears, call ´em boogers Rather six feet ´fore I´m ever seen with you niggas (Hold up) Yeah
[Tyler, The Creator & DJ Drama] What it is? It´s that nigga T, skin look colored in (Woo) Ridin´ in double-double R, that´s that Cullinan (Yeah) Pullin´ in that four hundred gram, I just bought a disc (Yeah) Switzerland, Lake Geneva where I spend my summer in (True story) Golf le Fleur, that´s Gianno shoe, what I´m runnin´ in Earlobe look like headlights on a new van (Gangsta Grillz)
I´m so motherfuckin´ dead-ass, I need some Timberlands (Woo) I battle any man, Uzi Vert, don´t think they understand (Yeah, yeah)
[Lil Uzi Vert & Tyler, The Creator] Uh (Skrrt, cool), double C on my feet Double G on my freak (Ooh), Louis V by my brick She wan´ kick it with me, she better eat it then leave (Leave, whoa) She try save ´bout the place but keep eatin´ my meat We can´t see none of ´em, bro, she keep eatin´ my seeds (Woo) Got a E and a B on the back of the CT I´m done with the 12, got a V16 (Uh) Say the money comin´ in, yeah, that´s true The more money I get, I don´t wan´ sex you
Can´t think about the last time that I text you It´s probably one Sidekicks out them belt loops Sign my John Hancock on a bitch every time I check you Just like a brand new Lamb´, I wreck you, uh So if this mind is yours (Woo, woo, woo)
[Tyler, The Creator & Lil Uzi Vert] Ride to the dinner tapin´ Outta time and imagine her in the exit Last year more than what Google say my net is I got chatter with the chef in the tinted exit (Like, whoa) Yeah, uh, uh, uh, whoa
[Pharrell Williams] It´s the double P, I rock double C Man, I run them beats like you run in cleats
Man, come to me, you want somethin´ to see This internally flawed, that´s a double Vs What troubles me is you couple me With these subtle fleas tryna double league Hornet trapped in the hive of a motherfuckin´ bumblebee They just got the closest picture of the fuckin´ sun surface, that was us Got the LaFerrari, park that bitch just for one purpose, catchin´ dust My Secret Service carry mops, you call ´em street sweepers, back you up Tat´ you up then add you up, then give you a cover like Adwoa If the shit´s fake, I don´t respect it, it´s clickbait And that´s distaste like a shit shake What a difference your wrist make when it´s Richard-made
Hungry eyes tend to fixate like a empty stomach for a fish plate Shit-faced, get this straight, this is truck wheels that grip tape
[Tyler, The Creator & DJ Drama] Ride to the dinner tapin´ Outta time and imagine her in the exit (Why you even talkin´ to us?) Last year more than what Google say my net is (Goddamn) I got chatter with the chef in the tinted exit Uh, uh, uh