Текст песни Oldie - Odd Future
Yo,
shout
out
to
everybody
that
worked
on
the
album
You
feel
me,
son?
Yo,
shouts
out
to
Ty
Dollas
Shouts
out
to
Hodgy
Daddies,
shouts
out
to
Left
Brizzle
Shouts
out
to
Domyon,
shouts
out
to
Frankie
Ocean
Shouts
out
to
Syd
the
Dude,
shouts
out
to
L-Boy
Awk
Big
eared
bandit
is
tossin'
all
his
manners
In
a
bag
and
wrappin'
them
in
seran
wrap
bandages
Tossin'
'em
in
baskets
with
the
rest
of
those
sandwiches
So
when
he
says
"Catch
up,
nigga"
it
looks
like
an
accident
Um,
flowin'
like
my
pad
is
the
maxiest
My
bitch
white
and
black
like
she's
been
mimickin'
a
panda
It's
the
dark
skinned
nigga,
kissin'
bitches
in
Canada
Then
kicking
all
out
like
Mr.
Lawrence
did
Pamela
Put
her
in
the
chamber
all
against
her
Wilt
Chamberlain
I
never
had
a
Reason,
nigga
I
was
just
Ableton
Not
a
fuckin'
Logic
contradictin'
dick
head
Flyer
than
an
ostrich
moshin'
in
a
tar
pit
Semen
scented
cheetah
printed
tee
In
that
'Preme
five
panel,
I'll
repeat
it
for
the
season
Previous
items
in
the
present
With
the
normal
ass
past
like
I
cheated
on
my
team
It's
me
(Tried
to
get
that
nigga,
but,
Golf
Wang)
To
have
some
type
of
knowledge
that
is
one
perception
But
knowin'
you
own
your
opponent
is
a
defeatin'
bonus
I'm
Zeus
to
a
Kronos,
cartilage
cartridge
is
boneless
Smiles
of
cowards
in
lead
showers,
dead
spouses
in
red
blouses
Children
who
fled
houses
on
Mustang
horses
and
went
joustin'
I'm
on
my
Robin
Hood
shit,
robbing
in
the
hood
Whips,
drugs,
jewels,
and
your
pet,
I'm
stealin'
your
rings
Coke
diamonds
and
your
Vet,
soldiers
lace
the
fuckin'
boot
And
salute
like
the
troop
when
you
shoot
you
gon'
poop
It's
KillHodgy,
nigga,
stay
the
fuck
off
my
stoop
And
out
my
Kool
aid,
Juice
Hodgy
got
the
juice,
I
got
the
gin
Jasper
got
the
Henny,
my
nigga
we
get
it
in
Wolf
Gang
party
at
the
hotel
I
call
a
ho,
you
call
a
ho,
and
all
the
hoes
tell
You
know
Left
Brain
need
a
freak
I
need
a
bitch
to
go
down
like
a
Nitty
beat
Yup,
uh,
and
her
ass
fat
Don't
be
surprised
if
I
ask
where
the
hash
at
Nigga,
I'm
tryna
smoke,
bitch
get
higher
Domo
where
that
Flocka
Flame?
Talking
'bout
a
lighter
Still
bang
salute
me
or
just
shoot
me
'Cause
if
you
don't
salute
me
then
my
team
will
do
the
shooting
Yeah,
my
nigga
Ace
will
pull
the
black
jack
The
king
Mike
G
is
in
the
cut
with
the
black
mac
Living
like
the
Mafia,
bitch,
don't
get
to
slacking
up
And
if
these
haters
acting
up,
throw
'em
in
the
aqueduct
Free
my
nigga
Earl,
yo,
I
don't
really
ask
for
much
But
two
bad
bitches
in
front
of
me
cunnilingus
What
the
fuck
is
caution?
Often
I
leave
you
flossing
and
cause
exes
next
to
coffins
Lost
in
translation,
the
dreams
you
chase
Got
you
diving
for
the
plates
like
you
stealing
home
base
That's
great,
I'm
home
alone
dreaming
of
two
on
ones
With
Rihanna
and
Christina
Milian,
bring
it
on
And
Travis
is
in
the
closet
organizing
and
hanging
the
tramp
Three
lettermans
that
Ace
has
been
making
him
No
strays
while
we
catching
matinees,
huh?
I'm
getting
blazed
thinking
'bout
those
days
I
had
the
top
off
the
GT3
like
toupees
One
finger
in
the
air,
all's
fair
when
crime
pays
My
grand
scheme
of
things
is
to
be
attached
To
the
game
like
bitches
to
their
wedding
rings
And
you
don't
even
need
to
look
cause
we
gleam
obscene
In
the
light,
ride
slow
to
my
yellow
diamond
shining
Like
the
Batman
logo
over
Gotham,
rock
LA
to
Harlem
If
you
say
"Get
'em
Mike
G"
then
I
got
'em
One
man
squadron,
nigga
I'm
a
problem
From
Briggs
I
got
bars
and
plans
to
Pimp
these
Polish
bitches
into
pop
stars
Humanity
kills,
we
all
suffer
from
insanity
still
And
if
I
said
it
then
it
is
or
it's
gonna
be
real
OF
till
I
OD
and
I
probably
will,
uh
It's
still
Mr.
Smoke-a-Lotta-Pot,
get
your
baby
mommy
popped
With
my
other
snobby
bop,
do
I
love
her?
prolly
not
Know
your
shit
is
not
as
hot
as
anything
I
fuckin'
drop
Bitch,
I'm
in
the
zone,
stand
alone,
like
Macaulay
Cock
I've
been
runnin'
blocks
since
a
snotty
tot
Big
wheel
was
a
big
deal
with
the
water
Glocks
Now
I'm
all
grown,
sing
songs
just
to
give
'em
watts
Fire
what
I
talk,
but
still
cooler
than
an
Otter
Pop
Op
Dom
neck
shit
in
your
wish
list
Mad
sick
shit,
mad
dick
for
your
bitches
On
some
slick
shit,
your
mistress
on
my
hit
list
And
I'm
lifted
'til
I'm
stiff
out
of
this
bitch
Odd
in
your
mothafuckin'
area
Blood
clots
give
me
five
feet
'fore
I
bury
ya
Suicide
flow,
let
the
big
wave
carry
ya
Tyler
got
the
mask
like
he
held
Jim
Carrey
up
And
fuck
your
team,
ho
nigga
wassup?
Wolf
Gang
so
you
know
we
not
giving
no
fucks
You
know
me
dog,
I'm
a
chill
in
the
cut
so
I
can
Cut
it
short,
break
it
down,
couple
pounds,
roll
it
up
Get
me
a
Persian
rug
where
the
center
looks
like
Galaga
Rent
a
super
car
for
a
day
Drive
around
with
your
friends,
smoke
a
gram
of
that
haze
Bro,
easy
on
the
ounce,
that's
a
lot
for
a
day
But
just
enough
for
a
week,
my
nigga
what
can
I
say
I'm
hi
and
I'm
Bi,
wait,
I
mean
I'm
straight
I'mma
give
you
this
wine,
the
runner
just
brought
the
grapes
My
brother
give
it
some
time,
Morris,
and
Day
Course
you
know
the
vibe's
as
fly
as
the
rhymes
On
the
song,
cut
and
you
could
sample
the
feel
Headphone
bleed,
make
this
shit
sound
real
Used
to
work
the
grill,
fatburger
and
fries
Then
I
made
a
mil
and
them
psychics
was
liars
Now,
how
many
fucking
crystal
balls
can
I
buy
and
own
Humble
old
me
had
to
flex
for
the
fogs
Down
in
Muscle
Beach
pumping
iron
and
bone
Bumping
oldies
off
my
cellular
phone
Yeah,
bumping
oldies
off
my
cellular
phone
Bumping
oldies
off
my
cellular
phone
Goddammit,
this
rapping
is
stupid
and
it's
hard
Gotta
do
it
over
and
over
and
over
again
but
here
I
go
Hey,
it's
Jasper,
not
even
a
rapper
Only
on
this
beat
to
make
my
racks
grow
faster
Got
a
TV
show,
so
I
guess
I'm
an
actor
Pot
head,
half
baked,
lookin'
like
Chappelle
Rollin'
up
a
blunt
with
that
fire
from
hell
Still
ignorant,
still
hit
a
bitch
Wolf
Gang,
nigga,
so
I
still
don't
give
a
shit
Catch
me
in
the
back
with
Miley
on
my
lap
Bong
rips
as
I
feel
on
that
little
bitch
cat
Hah,
nigga
came
through
with
a
9 bar
real
quick
Just
for
the
bitches,
little
bit
of
money
in
my
pocket
Fuck
it,
Wolf
Gang
Yeah,
fuck
that,
look,
for
contrast
is
a
pair
of
lips
Swallowin'
sarapin,
settin'
fires
to
sheriffs
whips
(Whoosp,
whoosp)
fuckin'
All-American
terrorist
Crushin'
rapper
larynx
to
feed
'em
a
fuckin'
carrot
stick
And
me?
I
just
spent
a
year
Ferrisin'
And
lost
a
little
sanity
to
show
you
what
hysterics
is
Spit
to
the
lips
meet
the
bottom
of
a
barrel
So
that
sterile
piss
flow
remind
these
niggas
where
embarrassed
is
Narrow,
tight
line,
might
impair
him
since
I
made
it
back
to
Fahrenheit,
grimey
get
dinero
type
Feral,
fuckin'
ill
apparel,
wearin'
pack
of
parasites
Threw
his
own
youth
off
the
roof
after
paradise
La-di-da-di,
back
in
here
to
fuck
the
party
up
Raidin'
fridges,
tippin'
over
vases
with
a
tommy
gun
Never
dollars,
poppa
make
it
rain
hockey
pucks
And
60
day
chips
from
fuckin'
awesome
anonymous
Call
him
bloated
till
he
show
'em
that
the
flow
deluxe
Off
the
wall
loafers,
Four
Loko,
and
a
cobra
clutch
Vocals
bold
and
rough,
evoke
a
ho
to
pose
as
drum
And
let
me
hit
and
beat
it
with
a
stick
until
the
hole
was
numb
The
culprit
of
the
potent
punch
Scoldin'
hot
as
dunkin'
scrotum
in
a
Folgers
cup
Or
Nevada,
drivin'
drunk
inside
a
stolen
truck
Shittin'
like
his
colon
bust
Belly
full
of
chicken
and
a
fifth
of
old
petroleum
Supernova,
I'm
rollin'
over
the
novices
I'm
roamin'
through
the
forest
and
spittin'
cold
as
the
porridge
is
Stay
gold
till
the
case
closed
and
the
story
end
Post
mortem
porkin'
this
rap
shit
and
record
it
To
escort
it
to
the
morgue
again,
lord
of
lips
Bored
of
this,
forklift
the
tippy
top,
best
under
40
list
Stormin'
the
gate,
ensurin'
the
bass
Scorchin'
ladies
motherfucker
sore
in
torso
and
face
Get
at
me
with
savages,
have
a
pack
of
Apache
Indian
pack
of
niggas
who
don't
give
a
fuck
if
we
nasty
as
flatulence
As
a
matter
of
fact,
your
swagger
is
tacky
So
see
me
you
can't
like
Crunchy
Black
catchin'
a
taxi
Back
like
lateral
passin'
With
that
mothafuckin'
gladiator
manner
of
rappin'
As
an
addict
I
let
Percocet
and
Xannies
relax
me
Fall
back
if
your
paddies
is
Maxi,
please
OF,
shit
that's
all
I
got
From
my
bigger
brother
Frankie
to
my
little
brother
Tac
From
that
father
figure
Clancy
to
that
skatey
nigga
Naks
Shredding
down
'Fax,
Wolf
Gang
run
the
fucking
block
Storefront,
knee
tat
Book
cover
is
the
same
lettering
on
lettermans
and
cotton
socks
And
grip
tape
and
my
shoes
Um,
I
was
15
when
I
first
drew
that
donut
5 years
later,
for
our
label
yea
we
own
it
I
started
an
empire,
I
ain't
even
old
enough
To
drink
a
fucking
beer,
I'm
tipsy
off
this
soda
pop
This
is
for
the
niggers
in
the
suburbs
And
the
white
kids
with
nigger
friends
who
say
the
n-word
And
the
ones
that
got
called
weird,
fag,
bitch,
nerd
Cause
you
was
into
jazz,
kitty
cats,
and
Steven
Spielberg
They
say
we
ain't
acting
right
Always
try
to
turn
our
fucking
color
into
black
and
white
But
they'll
never
change
'em,
never
understand
'em
Radical's
my
anthem,
turn
my
fucking
amps
up
So
instead
of
critiquing
and
bitching,
being
mad
as
fuck
Just
admit,
not
only
are
we
talented,
we're
rad
as
fuck,
bitches
OFM,
banging
on
your
FM
Gnaw,
2011,
yeah,
Golf
Wang
1 Hi.
2 Bitches
3 NY (Ned Flander)
4 Ya Know
5 Forest Green
6 Lean
7 Analog 2 (feat. Tyler, The Creator, Frank Ocean & Syd)
8 50
9 Snow White
10 Rella
11 Real Bitch
12 P
13 White
14 Hcapd
15 Sam (Is Dead)
16 Doms
17 We Got Bitches
18 Oldie
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