Текст пісні
One day
We gonna shake up the fung shui
Inner city shifting I'm drifting to pump brakes
Some saints, come with guides
For the recognizing that vibe
Chain smoking on the side trench coat lunch break
Gus Van Sant
With a dash of Rembrandt
Atlantic roller rink with the grown man stance
Both hands plant down for the tomahawk jam
Gotta a lot of plans splattering the collard green pan
Big Easy sous chef
Who's next
Seersucker suit dress
No socks two step
Suplex anybody talking sweet like sucrex
Overeas hostel with VHS bootlegs
I got Chunnel vision, Euros on my credit card
Metal march
Prosthetic arm
On the pot callin' kettles dark
Let's embark
Depart and roam
At the bar alone
Dipping marscapone
Watching Barcelone
Good lord, vaya con dios
Used to be a pee on now I'm a Viacom PO
We gon' open that shit with the Saigon street smoke
Opium den, we bout to tryin' on the fleece though, whoa
Good lord
Good lord
Good lord
Don't make me go and press record
At the airport playing lotto
Looking like a hair model
Aristotle with her brain, eyes like a clear bottle
Clairvoyant term coining
Antique zippo wilding
Flipping time sand glass in my hand by the hour
Come count it, uh, show me all the features
Steezed out breezy on the glaspar seat work
Back yard sitting on the pasture in Easter
With half a glass of Riesling I'm natural afrodesin'
Whoa baby whoa
Cultivated by the flow
Euro Coca-cola bottles tortellini on ya bowl
Ya'll don't even sorta see me I'm a genie in the mode
Hand carved Tongan tables Mr Pheeny on remote
Good lord, aloha, Allahu Akbar
Crock pot start looking like a 50's pop star