[Verse: Earl Sweatshirt]
Sweatshirt, Domo Genesis, throwing chairs, killing shit
I'm half-privileged, think white and have n*gger lips
A tad different, mad smart, act ignorant
Shit, I'll pass a class when my dad starts giving shits
But as long as our relationship is turdless
I'ma keep burning rubber and fucking these beats with burnt dick
Who that? Oh, that new-coon John Cusack
A Mecca button-up, shouting, "Bring Fubu back"
Hands full of coke, mouth full of crack Muzak
Odd Future on the do-rag—guess who's back?
With no hint, we're egging with no tint
Plus, it's a shotgun under the seat where your ho sits, ugh
The Night Striker, I'm riding her, up-tying her
It's nine Vicodins stuck inside of the windpipes of her
A little bit of sherm sure provokes the fucking fight in her
She started biting 'cause I'm giving cock like it's advice to her
Take that, I'm on top like wave caps
This is grade-A rap—Domo, bring that bass back, n***a

[Outro: Earl Sweatshirt & Tyler, the Creator]
Um, Domo couldn’t be here, so, uh… We’re just… I don’t like talking. Hu— Ugh!
Awww, cuz fell on the floor, cuz! Ayy, call them policemen n***as that, like, help people when they hurt!