Slater (feat. Frank Ocean)

Me and Slater just hit a curb

Bunnyhop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D (Star Trak)

Made a couple thousand turds spitting written verbs

Shit (what?) now I kick it in the 'burbs

Me? I'm from the slums, niggas who push a ton

Ton of drums, with foul flow, dirty mouth, like kissing bums

Mama done made her one, um, a witty son

With no respect for women, so show me your titties hun (what?)

You eighteen? Me? I'm twenty-somethin'

OK, I'm twenty, but I'm soon to be twenty-one

I wild out at shows, break shit, it should be fun

Venues are like pussy with me, "Should he come?"

I'ma wax that like the chapstick in my backpack for my black lips

Then dip to Europe and come back with a stack of cheese

A stack of cheese for these rats, um, that mac and cheese

New 'Preme shit got me feeling flyer than a bag of bees

Fuck critics ("How's your dick?") Shit, how's your knees?

Y'all on my dick more than my index when I take a pee

I came up with "Rella", ain't touch a bag of weed

Shit was doper than Whitney Houston's needs

Golf Wang, that's the team to be, ay

Getting T.U., O.F., indeed

We was missing Sweatshirt, like "Where's the hooded sleeve?"

Okay, nevermind, we found him, yeah

Me and Slater just hit a curb

Bunnyhop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D

Made a couple thousand turds spitting written verbs

Shit (what?) now I kick it in the 'burbs

Guess I win, checks started cashing in

I stop rapping and start asking where my fucking passion is

Probably where that faggot went (who?) Tyler talking father problems

Shocking shit, he spit to popping topics in them gossip columns

I ain't ask for this, I did it out of boredom

Thought that roach was cool, he died and pushed me into stardom

Now; Ye's, PJs, sipping leche

Chips Ahoy, boy, listening to "Cowboy", ay!

Boy, land in Melbourne and skate to Fitzroy, ay!

AUS was awes', I enjoyed, boy

Y'all niggas played as a tot's toy

Have a good day as I annoy, oi

Me and Slater just hit a curb

Bunnyhop, zoning out, listening to N.E.R.D

Made a couple thousand turds spitting written verbs

Shit (what?) now I kick it in the 'burbs

Canons with panorama views

My shoes that seen more vans than Mexicanas

Or crackers in Alabama

G-O-to-the-L-F, this OF

I opened up a store so I don't stress

But nigga, I (what?) mosh in gardens

Jazz punk shit, playing chords

Making up shit, pardon my Dolly Partons

And I keep shartin'

Hoodies with rectangles and different colors

Niggers think I started kindergarten

My bitch is on my handle bars

I, just, wanna, ride, my bike

Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater

My bitch is on my handle bars

Hair blowing in the wind

Her freckles look like candy bars

Hair blowing in the wind

My bitch is on my handle bars

I, just, wanna, ride, my bike

Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater

My bitch is on my handle bars (handle bars)

Hair blowing in the wind (ooohh)

Her freckles look like candy bars (shit)

My cool summer never ends (cool)

My bitch is on my handle bars

Yeah (bars, bars)

Slater, Slater, Slater, Slater

Oh my God, seriously? Mister cool guy, haha

You're talking to a fucking bike, loser

Hehe, oh fuck