Alright
It's Childish Gambino, can't forget me like I'm Rosebud
Drop unexpected and improper like some nose-blood
Take a drum, take a fucking slut, fuck'em both up
Taking reign all over your land, 'cause the flow's mud

Drinking in the kitchen, roast cunts while I toast fun
Swing my nuts 'round a haunted home, making ghosts come
Can't stop chugging beers, well, I guess it's one of those months
Educated rap, no F-n-Deez, call'em THOSE nuts

Far as salaries go
I'm like a gay Luigi with'em, try to marry the O's
Hugging my bros, getting too drunk, carry me home
I can't remember where it is, it's either Paris or Rome

I'm in the hotseat and I love it, gonna marry the throne
Your singing voice, Y Soprano? Leave it after the tone
I love it though, it's an homage, H is silent, you know
Your style is heroin, so drop the H from champ and be blown
(Uh uh ah uh, uh uh)

You rappers impotent and illeterate, zero Ball-zack
Calling God a cunt, I'm not surprised when no one calls back
Told me I can't fuck with this shit, let me pause that
Mind is getting paradoxical like a lost map
Load your fucking GPS, head battling sleepiness
Bible should named be „Shit My GOD Says", CBS
Do he mean „BS", about the things our Lord Jesus says?
You're mad, while I'm like a loyal Mexican, won't see mistress

See the fence, fucking cleaning sucks, watch me leave a mess
Try to clean your fucking daughter's chest and her creamy breast
Your defense on the thin side, mine is really dense
Lyrics criminal, so I guess I'll make the beat confess

Reinhold, Judy, Apatow, damn it, are you happy now?
Open a Pandora can of pop-culture, make Andy proud
Wait until you here the CAMP-bells, when it comes to town
Sober now, making vodka scream, making Sake howl

Chilling with my Enrons. Say it like a white-collar
Fuck green, got a black wallet, making white dollars
If I never take a break, fuck it, why should I bother?
We used to play all the time, dude, Nightcrawler

Drinking all across the fucking country, we're party folk
Last night we were pretty wealthy kids, now we're nasty broke
Eyes around the head, Voldemort, we are hardly stoked
Always one step ahead of you mosters, Gary Oak

Females always touching on my nuts, like they're Pokeballs
Hope she knows it's no strings attached like a broke guitar
Ladies want to get close with me, fellas hope he's far
Told me I'm not fit, 'cause the D.I.D, but I know we are
Marilyn sex-appeal with Kennedy hair
I'm on tour, Dallas-Los Angeles, you better beware
I blast competition, blue shells, I'll never be fair
My two cents are worth fucking millions, my pennies are rare