Ladies and gentlemenWe just landed in GenevaYeah, that’s in SwitzerlandWe on a yachtA young lady just fed me French vanilla ice creamWe all got our toes out, tooCall me when you get lostI’ma travel the globe, you keep the block hotDriver, open the door for me, my hand hurtFinders, we playin’ hide-and-seek with the passportsWhere the f**k we at? Oh, the pilot gotta remind us, yeahThe luggage is pilin’, I need a close-to-us (Woo)So many stinky sit in my wallet, look like a folden chair (Yeah)The Cartier so light on my body thought I floated hereWe boated here, it’s Tunechi and Tyler but call me Baudelaire, yeahOut in Switzerland, travel with my bi**h (ni**a), yeah, we kissin’, dawgI love when she let me rub her like Michelin (Skrrt, skrrt, facts)A hundred grand to sleep on a bird, the wings are whistlin’ like—Man, they ain’t listenin’Cross the line like immigrants and benefit from itKeep on stuntin’ on these ni**as, make ’em sick to they stomach, man (I can’t stop it)Y’all don’t understand, fish so fresh that you could taste the sameYeah, we gettin’ lost but we know who we am (True story)By the, by the, by the, by the some-some-somethin’Treat that last part like you ni**as ain’t sayin’ nothin’(Are we?)
Yeah, hahaYou see these excursions right here?Just too lavish to post on the ‘Gram (Gangsta Grillz)Uh (Tunechi)Excuse me, pardon me, the wind, it blow so hard to meLike mother nature arguing about some baby father beepin’I’m stuck in the middle of the sandwich like slaughter meatGot my middle fingers to the cameras that’s recording meFrom y’all to me, brrt, stop callin’ me unless you’re orderingI’m on the beach, I got my feet out, and I stay on my feetThe corner beat, I’m on a deep route, just throw the ball to meThought all this lean will have me senile, I guess they see nowLet’s touch down, catch a beat-down like I catch touchdownsI f**k ’round and slow the beat down and take the drums outThe speed of my plum so great, I’ma eat my own flowAnd I’m in need of a flaw, may eat me a rapper, I might as well eat me a ho (Oh)I’m hot as hell when the weather is freezin’ the cold, as the devil and demon and ghostI’ma get even and even, get even some more, it’s too late to even get low, baowWolf Gang, Wolf Gang, that’s what I need you to know, Mula, Weezy the goatThe wind beneath my wings, Desert Eagle underneath my coatYeah, Mula (bi**h)(Are we?)(On the boat, ni**a)You seeWe just over here admirin’ the view of the mountains from the lakeOf courseY’all know it’s Wolf Haley, man, stop f**kin’ playin’