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Topsongs van Tyler, The Creator
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Credits
AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Tyler, The Creator
Stimme und Gesang
Lil Uzi Vert
Stimme und Gesang
Pharrell Williams
Stimme und Gesang
DJ Drama
Moderator:in
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Pharrell Williams
Texte
Tyler Okonma
Komponist:in
Symere Woods
Texte
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Tyler, The Creator
Produzent:in
Vic Wainstein
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Mike Larson
Aufnahmeingenieur:in
Sam Morton
Aufnahmeingenieurassistent:in
Neal Pogue
Mischtechniker:in
Zachary Acosta
Mischtechnikerassistent:in
Mike Bozzi
Mastering-Ingenieur:in
Songteksten
[Intro]
Something like
I just cut some fresh lemons, where's the sugar?
Lemon in my -ade, lemon in my ears, call 'em boogers
Rather six feet 'fore I'm ever seen with you ****
[Verse 1]
What it is? It's that **** T, skin look colored in
Riding in double-double R, that's that Cullinan
Pullin' in that four hundred grand, I just ordered this
Switzerland, Lake Geneva where I spend my summer in
GOLF le FLEUR*, that's Gianno shoe, what I'm runnin' in
Earlobe look like headlights on a minivan
I'm so motherfuckin' deadass, I need some Timberlands
I battle any man, Uzi Vert, don't think they understand
[Verse 2]
Uh
Double C on my feet, double G on my freak
Louis V by my briefs, she wan' kick it with me
She better eat it then leave
She try save all the plates but keep eating my meat
We can't see none of 'em grow, she keep eating my seeds
Got a E and a B on the back of the seat
See, I'm done with the 12, got a V16, uh
Say the money comin' in, yeah, that's true
The more money I get, I don't wan' sex you
Can't think about the last time that I text you
It's probably when sidekicks had them belt loops
Sign my John Hancock on a bitch every time I check you
Just like a brand new Lamb', I wreck you, uh
So if it's mine, it's yours
[Chorus]
Ride to the dinner tapin'
Outta time and imagine her in the exit
Last deal more than what Google say my net is
I got cheddar with the chef in the tinted exit
Uh, uh, uh
[Verse 3]
It's the double P, I rock double C
Man, I run them beats like you run in cleats
Man, come to me, you want something to see
This internally flawless, a double V
What troubles me is you couple me
With these subtle fleas tryna double the
Hornet trapped in the hive of a motherfucking bumblebee
[Verse 4]
They just got the closest picture of the fucking sun surface, that was us
Got the LaFerrari, park that bitch just for one purpose, catching dust
My Secret Service carry mops, you call 'em street sweepers, back you up
Tat' you up, then add you up, then give you a cover like Adwoa
If the shit's fake, I don't respect it, it's clickbait
And that's distaste like a shit shake
What a difference your wrist make when it's Richard-made
Hungry eyes tend to fixate like a empty stomach for a fish plate
Shit-faced, get this straight, this is truck wheels that grip tape
[Chorus]
Ride to the dinner tapin'
Outta time and imagine her in the exit
Last deal more than what Google say my net is
I got cheddar with the chef in the tinted exit
Uh, uh, uh
Written by: Pharrell Williams, Symere Woods, Tyler Okonma