[Intro]
They don't paint pictures, they just trace me
[Verse 1]
Odd Future, I'm your muthaf*ckin' sergeant
N*gga, I'm in charge, I f*ck with Freshjive
Cause I get it, no charge, and BBC for the low price
No bargin', *gga that's a bargain
Cow print t-shirt like muthaf*ckin' dog
On the muthaf*ckin' farm with cockadoddle doodles
I'm making straight b*tches pussy wet just like a noodle
And my d*ck must be dog food to these b*tches' poodles
Felines on the freetime, I'm tossin' b*tches' salads
And I'm eating up they croutons, Erica to Milan
We was flyin' to Milan, was supposed to go to Bangkok
Until she figured out that she don't really like to bang cock
To Soho, baby, Milo so dope
The cocaine flow, *ggas spit heat, propane
N*ggas get the picture, I see, why?
(They don't paint pictures, they just trace me)
[Hook]
My *gga, no hook
No hook, f*ck a hook
[Verse 2]
Yo, beside me, nobody likes me
Mainly because I am not a f*ckin' HypeBeast
I think Supreme suck, we gnarly on our Nikes
I can wear some Wranglers, with a f*ckin' white T
Doo-rags to match, and I do sag
In fact, my hat is in tact with the Fubu poor over
N*gga, you pull over, f*ck a Rover Range
And I'm driving a unicorn, plus my b*tch is strange
And I'm the only f*ckin' rapper without a chain
With a four finger ring like I can't spell my f*ckin' name
And I go to Obama rallies screamin' out "McCain!"
Them ignorant bashin' muthaf*ckers is my gang
And the dirty la dera I can't forget where I came from
N*gga, you don't claim none, fan I am the teacher
White and black b*tch like she's a muthaf*ckin' zebra
Candies in my pocket, I see you *ggas on Easter
[Hook]
[Bridge]
(It's gold) The gold is in the back
(It's gold) The beat's in the front
(It's gold) The beat's a f*ckin' bully
(Go home) The lyric's just a punk, man
(Gold) The pink is in the sky
(That shit's gold) The gold is in my mind
(It's gold) The mind is in my gold
The beat is turnin' old, so go
[Verse 3]
Synthesizer, I'm the muthaf*ckin' master
N*gga, I'm a bastard, I f*ck with chord keys
Cause the sound lasts longer, bass drummer song
And a hi-hat made of plastic, *gga's sound is elastic
N*gga, you can bite this, unless you wanna bite back
I didn't take my f*ckin' Ritalin, this is a hype track
HypeTrack that and send it, *gga it's a sack shit
I had you motherf*ckers eatin' salad like a fat b*tch
[Outro]
Drop it, Ace the Creator, O.F.N, bangin' on your FM
Ace the Creator, drop the drums, *gga, thank you to HypeBeast