Ill gizoogle oldie
oldie - odd future (10:38 long)ok here it goes
How tha forget do I create annotations?
Caution: Yo ass is now annotatin dis cold lil' woo wop as
[Intro: Taco]
Yo, shout up ta dem hoes dat hit dat shiznit on tha mixtape, you feel me, son?
Yo, shouts up ta Ty Dollas
Shouts up ta Hodgy Daddies, shouts up ta Left Brizzle
Shouts up ta Domyen, shouts up ta Frankie Ocean
Shouts up ta Syd tha Dude, shouts up ta L-Boy Awwwwk
[Verse 1: Tyla tha Creator]
Da big-ass eared bandit is tossin' all his crazy-ass manners
In a funky-ass bag n' wrappin' dem up in Saran wrap bandages
Tossin' 'em up in baskets wit tha rest of dem sandwiches
So when da perved-out muthaforgeta say "Catch up, nizzle" it be lookin like a accident
Um, flowin' like mah pad is tha maxiest
I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah biiiatch white n' black like da hoe been mimickin' a panda
It aint nuthin but tha dark skinned nizzle, kissin' biiiatches up in Canada
Then kickin all up like Mista Muthaforgetin Lawrence did Pamela
Put her up in tha chamber all against her Wilt Chamberlain
I never had a Reason, nizzle I was just Ableton
Not a gangbangin' forgetin' Logic contradictin' richard head
Flyer than a ostrich moshin' up in a tar pit
Semen scented cheetah printed tee
In dat 'Preme five panel, I be bout ta repeat it fo' tha season
Previous stuff up in tha present
With tha aiiight ass past like I cheated on mah crew
It aint nuthin but me (Tried ta git dat nizzle yo, but, Golf Wang)
[Verse 2: Hodgy Beats]
To have some type of knowledge dat is one perception
But knowin' you own yo' opponent be a thugged-out defeatin' bonus
I be Zeus ta a Kronos, cartilage cartridge is boneless
Smilez of cowardz up in lead showers, dead spouses up in red blouses
Lil entrepreneur s whoz ass fled houses on Mustang horses n' went joustin'
I be on mah Robin Hood stuff, robbin up in tha hood
Whips, sticky-icky-ickys, jewels, n' yo' pet, I be stealin' yo' rims
Coke diamondz n' yo' Vette, soldiers lace tha forgetin' boot
And salute like tha troop when they blast you gon' brrrooop
It aint nuthin but KillHodgy, brother, stay tha git tha forget outta mah grill wit dat bullstuff mah stoop
And up mah Kool aid, Juice
[Verse 3: Left Dome]
Hodgy gots tha juice, I gots tha gin
Jasper gots tha Henny, mah nizzle we git it in
Wolf Gang jam all up in tha hotel
I call a ho, you call a ho, n' all tha hoes tell
Yo ass know Left Dome need a gangbangin' freak
I need a funky-ass biiiatch ta go down like a Nitty beat
Yup, uh, n' her ass fat
Don't be surprised if I ask where tha hash at
brother I be tryna smoke, biiiatch git higher
Domo where dat Flocka Flame, biatch? Talkin 'bout a lighter
Still bang salute me or just blast mah dirty ass
Cause if you don't salute me then mah crew will do tha blasting
Yeah mah nizzle Ace will pull tha black jack
Da mackdaddy Mike G is up in tha cut wit tha black mac
We like tha mafia, biiiatch, don't git ta slackin up
And if these hatas actin up, throw 'em up in tha aqueduct
Jacked mah nizzle Earl, yo, I don't straight-up ask fo' much
But two wack biiiatches up in front of me cunnilingus
[Verse 4: Mike G]
What tha forget is caution?
Often I leave 'em flossin up in KAWS, exes next ta coffins
Lost up in translation, tha trips you chase
Got you divin fo' tha plates like you jackin home base
Thatz entrepreneur ed out, I be home ridin' solo trippin of two on ones
With Rihanna n' Christina Milian, brang it on
And Travis is up in tha closet organizin n' hangin tha tramp
Three lettermans dat Ace has been makin him
No strays while we catchin matinees, huh?
I be gettin blazed thankin 'bout dem days
I had tha top off tha GT3 like toupees
One finger up in tha air, allz fair when crime pays
I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah grand scheme of thangs is ta be attached
To tha game like biiiatches ta they weddin rings
And you don't even need ta look cause we gleam obscene
In tha light, ride slow ta mah yellow diamond shining
Like tha Bathustla logo over Gotham, rock LA ta Harlem
If you say "Git 'em Mike G" then I gots 'em
One playa squadron, nizzle I be a problem
From Briggs I gots bars and plans to
entrepreneur these Polish biiiatches tha forget into muthaforgetas
Humanitizzle kills, we all suffer from insanitizzle still
And if I holla'd it then it is or itz gonna be real
OF 'til I OD n' I probably will, uh
[Verse 5: Domo Genesis]
It aint nuthin but still Mista Muthaforgetin Right back up in yo muthaforgetin ass. Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot, get yo' baby mommy popped
With mah other snobby bop, do I gots a straight-up boner fo' her, biatch? Prolly not
Know yo' shiznit aint as bangin' as anythang I forgetin' drop
Bitch I be up in tha unit, stand alone, like Macaulay rooster
Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I been runnin' blocks since a snotty tot
Big wheel was a funky-ass big-ass deal wit tha gin n juice Glocks
Now I be all grown, same song, just a gangbangin' finger-lickin' different waltz
Fire what tha forget I rap yo, but still coola than a Otter Pop
Op, Dom next shiznit up in yo' wish list
Mad sick stuff, mad richard fo' yo' biiiatches
On some slick stuff, yo' mistress on mah hit list
And I be lifted 'til I be stiff outta dis biiiatch
Odd up in yo' mothaforgetin' area
Blood clots give me five feet 'fore I bury ya
Suicizzle flow, let tha big-ass wave carry ya
Tyla gots tha mask like dat schmoooove muthaforgeta held Jim Carrey up
And forget yo' crew, ho nizzle wassup
Wolf Gang so you know our asses aint givin no forgets
Yo ass know me dog, I be a cold-ass lil chill up in tha cut so I can
Cut it short, break it down, couple pounds, roll it up
[Interlude]
Git me a Persian rug where tha center be lookin like Galaga
[Verse 6: Frank Ocean]
Rent a supa hoopty fo' a thugged-out day
Drive round wit yo' playas, smoke a gram of dat haze
Bro, easy as forget on tha ounce, thatz a stuffload fo' a thugged-out day
But just enough fo' a week, mah nizzle what tha forget can I say
I be hi n' I be bi, wait I mean I be straight
I'mma hit you wit dis wine, tha runner just brought tha grapes
I be a gangsta yo, but y'all knew dat n' mah brutha give it some time, Morris, n' Day
Course you know tha vibez as fly as tha rhymes
On tha song, cut n' you could sample tha feel
Headphone bleed, make dis shiznit sound real
Used ta work tha grill, Fatburger n' fries
Then I done cooked up a mil n' dem psychos was liars
Now, how tha forget nuff forgetin crystal balls can I loot n' own
Humble oldschool me had ta flex fo' tha folks
Down up in Muscle Beach pumpin iron n' bone
Bumpin oldies off mah cellular phone
Yeah, bumpin oldies off mah cellular phone
[Interlude: Jasper Dolphin]
Goddammit, dis rappin is wack n' itz hard
Gotta do it over n' over n' over again n' again n' again but here it go
[Verse 7: Jasper Dolphin]
Yo itz Jasper, not even a rapper
Only on dis beat ta make mah racks grow faster
Got a TV show, so I guess I be a hustla
Pot head, half baked, lookin' like Chappelle
Rollin' up a funky-ass blunt wit dat fire from hell
Still ignorant, still hit a funky-ass biiiatch
Wolf Gang, nizzle, so I still don't give a stuff
Catch me up in tha back wit Miley on mah lap
Bong rips as I feel on dat lil biiiatch cat
[Interlude]
Hah, nizzle came all up in wit a 9 bar real quick
Just fo' tha biiiatches, lil bit of scrilla up in mah pocket
forget it, Wolf Gang (Yeah, forget that)
[Verse 8: Earl Sweatshirt]
Look, fo' contrast, herez a pair of lips
Swallowin' sarapin and settin' fire ta sheriffz whips
(Whoops, whoops!) forgetin' All-Gangsta terrorist
Crushin' rapper larynx ta feed 'em a gangbangin' forgetin' carrot stick
And mah crazy ass son, biatch? I just dropped a year Ferrisin'
And lost a lil sanitizzle ta show you what tha forget hysterics is
Spit til' tha lips hook up tha bottom of a funky-ass barrel, so dat sterile piss
Flow remind these nizzlez where embarrassed is
Narrow, tight line, might impair his ass since
I juiced it up back ta Fahrenheit, grimey git dinero type
Feral, forgetin'-ill-apparel-wearin' ounce ta tha bounce of parasites
Threw his own youth off tha roof afta paradise
La di da di, back up in here ta forget tha jam up
Raidin' fridges, tippin' over vases wit a tommy gun
Never dollars, poppa make it drizzle hockey pucks
And 60 dizzle chips from forgetin' phat anonymous
Call his ass bloated 'til da perved-out muthaforgeta show 'em dat tha flow deluxe
Off tha wall loafers, Four Loko n' a cold-ass lil cobra clutch
Vocals bold n' rough, evoke a ho ta pose as drum
And let me hit n' beat it wit a stick until tha hole is numb
Da culprit of tha potent punch
Scoldin' bangin' as dunkin' scrotum up in a Folgers cup
Or Nevada, drivin' faded inside a jacked truck
Shiznittin' like his colon bust
Belly full of chicken n' a gangbangin' fifth of oldschool petroleum
Supernova, I be rollin' over tha novices
And roamin' all up in tha forest n' spittin' cold as his thugged-out lil' porridge is
Stay gold 'til tha case closed n' tha rap end
Post mortem porkin' dis rap shiznit n' record dat stuff
To escort it ta tha morgue again, lord of lips
Bored of this, forklift tha tippy top, dopest under 40 list
Stormin' tha gate, ensurin' tha bass
Scorchin', leave these motherforgeters sore up in torso n' face
Git at me, we savages, half a ounce ta tha bounce of Apache
Indian ounce ta tha bounce of nizzlez whoz ass don't give a gangbangin' forget if we nasty as flatulence
As a matter of fact, yo' swagger is tacky
So peep me you can't like Crunchy Black catchin' a taxi
Uh, back like lateral passin'
With dat mothaforgetin' gladiator manner of rappin'
As a crackhead I let Percocet n' Xannies chillax mah dirty ass
Fall back if yo' paddies is Maxi, please
[Verse 9: Tyla tha Creator]
OF, shiznit thatz all I got
From mah bigger brutha Frankie ta mah lil brutha Tac
From dat daddy figure Clancy to dat skatey nizzle Nak
Shreddin' down 'Fax, Wolf Gang run tha forgetin' block
Storefront, knee tat
Book cover is tha same ol' dirty letterin on lettermans n' cotton socks
And grip tape...and mah shoes
Um, I was 15 when I first drew dat donut
5 muthaforgetin years later, fo' our label yea we own dat stuff
I started a empire, I ain't even oldschool enough
To drank a gangbangin' forgetin brew, I be tipsy off dis soda pop
This is fo' tha nizzlez up in tha suburbs
And tha white lil playas wit nizzle playaz whoz ass say tha n-word
And tha ones dat gots called weird, cigarette, biiiatch, nerd
Cause you was tha forget into jazz, kitty cats, n' Steven Spielberg
They say we ain't actin' right
Always try ta turn our forgetin' color tha forget into black n' white
But they'll never chizzle 'em, never KNOW 'em
Radicalz mah anthem, turn mah forgetin amps up
So instead of critiquin n' biiiatchin', bein' mad as forget
Just admit, not only is we talented, we rad as forget, biiiatches
