LYRICS
Produced by: The Alchemist
<Verse 1: Domo Genesis>
Yo, um, yo
Oh-so-cocky, you can't stop me in this old Versace
B*****s watch me in the streets like it's roller hockey
Your b***h is floppy, givin' sloppy while she call me pap
Takin' the doggies right to the face like she Kobiyashi
You ****ing flow is washy, I'm gettin' mine's dry cleane
Tight seam, it might seem, I'm sellin' ****ing pipe dreams
Hi fiends, I'm back with a bag of them packed white things
My Nikes clean, I see these mother****ers hatin' through my ice blings
I'm a bad mother****er, I ain't use a rubber
Super lover, so soon you say hello to your newest brother
The truest colors what I bleed, but you ain't seen enough of
B***h leakin', you gon' have to go see the deacon you stupid sucka
Young Dom, say you old mother****ers should wrap it up
You wack, focus back on the craft, you hardly rap enough
The fattest blunt and death to that pop-hop, I ain't ask for much
And stop askin' for the collabs cause all you bastards suck
<Verse 2: Earl Sweatshirt>
This that thirty deep, it's Saugus shit, fire starter, squadron
Dodgin' coppers since, ask her why she droppin' cuz
It's probably cause he prodigious
Pay the rent easy, leave the bank cheesy
And bass leave your face greasy, artisan, paint easy
Thick bristle type b***h on a b***h steez
Stanzas diesel like Vic Tanny on a fritz,
Whoops, system overload, itchin' for a foe to poach
Spittin' like the engine on a mother****er' motorboat
Gold glisten under overcoat, missin' all
Affection for these mother****ers, redirectin' all these ****ers
Very literal, type to sip the Mickeys out of cereal
Drunk and drivin', twisty, how he inked up in the swimming pool?
Hundred stand against me, I'm a menace void a villain, sue me
Drivin' into fences cause I hit the whip a little woozy
B***h I'm busy cruisin', 'scuse me
<Verse 3: Vince Staples>
Can't even walk up in the church without these mother****ers tryna testify
I live to die, better that than to live a lie
I rap better than most these rap veterans
Hard-headed and hopeless, hope that God let us in
Momma didn't wanna give birth to a b***h
Should've murdered a b***h, I'm a cancer to the youth
Automatics out the roof, 380 with the weave in it
On site, scary as prom nights with Carrie
Or car rides with Berry, that's Halle not Brent
Shootin' like Brent and his brother, doin' what daddy had did
Niggas want Grammys and shit, that's funny to me
Cause since the first take it's been about money to me
I'm just tryin' to get what Diddy got, doing what got Biggie shot
They told me that I wasn't shit, but left me in a litter box
Give it up and get a job
<Verse 4: Action Bronson>
Uh, get a job b***h
I'm like the boss from the end of the Nintendo game
My brain is on another level, I can feel the Devil's pain
Only address me by my reverend name: the good doctor
The good author, good brain in a good Porsche
Dancin' drunk in dress pants like I'm a hunk
Backflip in a jacuzzi, forty floors inside the Trump
Front-flip into this high yellow Chinese b***h's rump
Then she make me chicken broccoli for lunch
I roll a joint like a Motumbo arm, I'm high cousin
Every time I roll the dice it's five hundred
When I order wine, it's nine hundred, French chefs kneel before me
End of story take a shorty to the sortee
That's the bathroom, you already know what happens there
I pull my swimming trunks down, she suck me through the boxer
While I'm wearin' flip-flops, shit's real, grip the wheel, lift steel
<Outro: Action Bronson>
That's it
Woo, **** yeah, hello
Fan fare, bravo, encore