[Verse 1: Hodgy Beats]
I said, n***as be takin' life too serious
I swear my music take lives—uh—period
MellowHype, things independent, Freedmind pyramids
Breaking walls down, never a Black Hawk Down, oh
They put a label on me, but I see they’re all clowns
That’s why I talk English and think fast
Feel my words through the ink's last letter
Which'll never turn his back, back catcher
I grab extra magazines I'm in to remind me of the places I’ve been
Returning to visit again, me and my fuckin’ friends
Before I hit the stage I clench my microphone until my fist hurt
Before I eat sushi, I’d rather get to know the fish first
For all the cats behind my time that rhyme, that shit's worth—
Everything in my mental state now I’m secure, mental ways
Dental plates in my jaw for spitting raw just because
I like to floss my talent (Uh-uh-uh-uh) yeah

[Hook: Frank Ocean]
Think I'ma wear the yellow tux at the Grammys
And rock out with my cock out
Like, "Who this kid think he is?"
It’s just something I seen Prince do, it's true
But no matter what, I'm showing up
Who gives a flying floating fuck what people say or think?
'Cause end of the day, start of the day, they all said we wouldn’t get here anyway
You blink, and Wolf Gang’s in this bitch
[Verse 2: Hodgy Beats]
When I was a kid I wanted to be just like you
(When I grew up, when I, when I, grew up)
Write my own rhymes, recite 'em a couple times
Hoping one day it blew up so me and my n***as could shine
I got three quarters and about ten dimes
You can split them tens up, 'cause both these quarters are mines, n***a
Let’s fuckin' celebrate, Wolf Gang confederate
We made it, we made it, we made it, and you hatin'
'Cause we made it and we made it, and that is not an understatement (Oh)
I put that on the people that I stay with, live day-to-day with
Tour bus is the slave ship, n***as worked the grave shift
Record, clean up, and play disc
We must be misbehaving, but the fans love it; they get the subject
N***as claim to be rappers but don’t fulfill the substance
Fuckin' rubbish, I'll dust quick, nothing to fuck with
I've got my hands on my balls, like my nuts itch

[Hook: Frank Ocean]
Think I'ma wear the yellow tux at the Grammys
And rock out with my cock out (Ayy)
Like, "Who this kid think he is?"
It’s just something I seen Prince do, it's true
But no matter what, I'm showing up—
Who gives a flying, floating fuck what people say or think?
'Cause end of the day, start of the day, they all said we wouldn’t get here anyway
You blink, and Wolf Gang’s in this bitch
[Interlude: Frank Ocean]
I remember, I first played Trick' some OF shit (Ooh-ooh-ooh)
And he fronted on it, like, "Nah, that shit will never work" (Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)
Hahaha
Like, "Word?"

[Refrain: Frank Ocean]
Family (Haha)
These two wrists of mine
I had to make them gold
You gotta let me shine (Right, right)
If you’re a friend of mine
Ask any friend of mine
I’ll never block your glow, won’t curb your high
We be in a place they never been
Hella bands for the hell of it
In Paris, Paris, Paris
White wings on desert sand
Flyin' over the Taliban, probably
We be in a place they never been
Hella bands for the hell of it
In Paris, Paris, Paris
White wings on desert sand
Flyin' over the Taliban, probably