Astro lyrics

by

Tyler, The Creator


[Verse 1: Hodgy Beats]
I said, n*ggas 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 f*ckin’ 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 sh*t'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 c*ck 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 f*ck 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 b*tch
[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*ggas could shine
I got three quarters and about ten dimes
You can split them tens up, 'cause both these quarters are mines, n*gga
Let’s f*ckin' 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*ggas worked the grave shift
Record, clean up, and play disc
We must be misbehaving, but the fans love it; they get the subject
n*ggas claim to be rappers but don’t fulfill the substance
f*ckin' rubbish, I'll dust quick, nothing to f*ck 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 c*ck 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 f*ck 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 b*tch
[Interlude: Frank Ocean]
I remember, I first played Trick' some OF sh*t (Ooh-ooh-ooh)
And he fronted on it, like, "Nah, that sh*t 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
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