Lyrics:
Jumping in my Rover, I'm coming over
Jumping in my Rover, I'm coming over
Hit you at 8 then you better be awake by 9
Alright, if I say I'm
a slug fest
I just buried 8 of mine
At night I hear grown men cryin'
You know I'm spittin' mine
I ain't goin' out here, we gotta win
Everytime I hear
patron
Never fall out by money
Cause' we gone' get some more
I'm from the streets, I won't fold
I just live by the code
My double cup is so dirty
the sport
Coats of the season
And surrounded by his whole Odd Future crew
The ascendant singer opens up to
Amy Wallace about his crazy
Year including the bomb
Three nights here by myself
Tryna reach her from the hotel
Said she'd be here by now
Maybe she's lost or with someone else
Somebody dial 311
Ah, breaker one-nine, this here's the Rubber Duck
You gotta copy on me, Pig Pen, c'mon?
Ah, yeah, 10-4, Pig Pen, fer sure, fer sure
By golly,
eight stars, don't give me no C in this life
I'm just glad that my young born kids won't have you as a daddy in this life
Hold your L, you prick
F you,
by gosh, I'll never night-herd again.
Come a ti yi yippee, come a ti yi yea,
Come a ti yi yippee, come a ti yi yea.
Feet in the stirrups
really souped up
That Model A Vitimix makes it look like a pup
It's got eight cylinders, uses them all
It's got overdrive, just won't stall
With
can't do that deal if it ain't more than eight mil' (damn)
Oh shit, got them M's and now he lit
Hunnid thousand dollar investment, I invest on my wrist
a project brick
Pack of Newports and Actavis, yeah that's my starter kit
I put my Glizzy on my hip and flag to my left
I'd rather be judged by six than
Yo, I'll never do the baseball with you
'Cause your hoochie-coo was so smooth
Was it such a sin to let, let me in?
Hooked by your ever-so-shyness
it be like run your coat black
Jupiter, keeps her fat beats by the pack
Where I'm from, nappy hair is life
We be reading Marx where I'm from
a kiss
So yo, so I blend in the mix
Now a day don't go by I ain't been in a chick
Eight and a half on the dope, ask Dominican Rich
Winning and rich
tune
He's pulling up fast on the right
Rolling restlessly by a twenty-four hour moon
And a Wisconsin hiker with a cue-ball head
He's wishing he was
from, it be like run your coat black
Jupiter, keeps her fat beats by the pack
Where I'm from, nappy hair is life
We be reading Marx where I'm from
Blowin' out, blowin' out
Black on time been still layin' like I said
Under the screen, be a eight wonder
So for Dania, I do it, shit, push a little fist
Ah, breaker one-nine, this here's the Rubber Duck
You gotta copy on me, Pig Pen, c'mon?
Ah, yeah, 10-4, Pig Pen, fer sure, fer sure
By golly,
you're offended by that line
We're probably from a different time
Because my generation talks like this and we think that it's fine
Watch me go outside
I guess that's your type
I'm
I'm only 4 floors below you
But I'm 5 steps ahead of you
So I'm there by 8 to your smile and wave through the window
You bitches be acting so cynical
Can't tell the difference you niggas identical
Fiend got 8 arms like a octopus tentacle
I'll try and keep
There are eight letters fighting through
Waiting to be used by you
But in the end the only things that remain
Are three words to say
Three words to say
Somethin' foreign on the plate
We be scoring by the 8
We be pouring by the 8
Niggas dishin' out the weight
You can get it by the whole half, quarter,
diesel w/ the kush
Dunking strong in the woods
I been smoking by the bush
Tone said he want the i8
I told em we gon get the i8
Whooo I'm up on a new level
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