[Intro: Christopher Sabat] TUAMIE has developed a new hyperbolic time chamber Here on Namek, we'll be focusing on the mental Training starts now, begin
[Verse 1: Jon Bellion] Ooh, I've just been fanning myself, I'm a such a fan of myself There's levels to the cool like a fan on a shelf When you blow, they try to gas you like fans at the Shell station God hands me a full plate, but I handle it well If they don't feel your thoughts, start dreaming in braille They'll try to sell you short 'cause their dreams are for sale They'll say "Get off your podium, life isn't Nickelodeon" Aren't you so dumb? Kenan and Kel" Wow The government leaves an animal trail So I switch to swiss chard, carrots, and kale So I'll remember my kid's name, dementia is a sick game I'm silence in the lamb, call me Hannibal Failed, yeah Financial plans should be handled in stealth I fight to leave the private life for my family's health Got some dinner with art collectors, they started drinkin' Prosecco When they slipped about their level of family wealth Bunch of actresses downplay how my records have felt It's not a mystery to decode a fanning yourself "This man's on fire," I can't pretend I'm not talented For me to fake humble's a corny way to be arrogant Drug dealers still on the corner of Madison Except they push Pradas and Red Bottoms to Madisons Red bottoms for baboons and radishes I went to Mozambique and saw a real kind of happiness So I don't feel guilty when Nike sends me some packages We still end up in boxes even though we chase packaging
[Verse 2: Jon Bellion & Christopher Sabat] Take this, take this, TUAMIE supply the face lift Take this, take this, TUAMIE supply the face lift I can't fall off, I got a great grip Go and find some talent, have a great trip This Bellion guy's power level's amazing Uh, take this, take this, TUAMIE supply the face lift Prepare to fight My stance here is a band leader is Pangaea My heart free-er, I'm cold, heater than Cambria I rock steady, my Johnson's Dwayne-heavy We just erase heroes, I Stan Lee your remedy, he the King of Queens, my balls breathe Lebron's Kia I carry greatness, statements on spaceship, Haitians get lasik Meaning you dread what comes from my third eye Blind to the fake shit (Wow) My tone is gettin' aggressive, I just create for the truly gifted of adolescense My essence becomes the mystery I instantly become a Pistol Pete in a sport full of Walt Fraziers My Kelsey Grammer is something like Forward Ham Like Alfred Hitchcock with a camera Just blazin' Killer Cam Family candle can't handle it My channel too hot to cancel, my babies drivin' a Mansell I'm passenger writin' stanzas, I'm holdin' these verses ransom I'm Hansel Zoolander handsome TUAMIE supply the face lift
[Verse 3: Jon Bellion & Christopher Sabat] It's all because of (Jesus) Well done, welcome to Glory Sound Prep I'm lovin' it all, here with my brother-in-law Greece is a beautiful place, food is incredible, awe We just been playin' some games, everyone's pickin' a straw Who gets the longest has gotta go tell the butler to call For more alcohol Wait, we'd told the locals that we'd go and play basketball But they don't want the business Plus, I drank from the flask we bought, now everything is spinnin' Now we laugh it off Ooh, it's Whoopi Goldberg the way that my sisters act up They had some champagne, now everybody's laughing Movies 'bout paradise, and my family got the cast thing If you dove into the tears of my eyes, you'd hear this instrumental Jesus was instrumental in blessing my mental Every time I drove a car, could've twisted the metal Yeah, all the things on my wish list, God has given in triplets I'm on an island where opiates go to rich kids And then they pass away, that's called death over the privileged Yeah, I never wanna be famous, stop calling me underrated I'm still pushin' the same whip, I was drivin' in Sachem Peace in my life, it's awesome, As-salamu alaykum I'm makin' certain decisions, I'm flyin' under the radar I really love my life and this music thing is a great job Yeah, pick up the phone and someone tells me, "Mr. Bellion, sir Beyoncé on the line, she tryna reach you on your cellular" She wanted "Fall In Line," but we gave it to Aguilera, uhh I hope it's the right decision, Bey wanted it for the twins she signed I hope I didn't burn that bridge, I worry all the time I'm just tryna show these kids about this slight of mine I always flex, but I realize that it's divine appointment I'm a cross between hard work and Jesus-annointed I hope the ceiling that needed grace is the final notion For the rest of my life, you'll see me on the L-I-double R With a Heineken in my bag, on my way to the Gardens Tryin' to kill your nephews like I been fuckin' with Star Me lyin' down on the job is not an option at all On my way to the Garden On my way to the On my way to the Gar-Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
