Childish Gambino, Erick the Architect - God Save The Villain lyrics

Okay
Money ain't a thing except for like always
Used to make a stack and have
To split that shit four ways
Eatin' a cheese croquette
Beer garden these bitches
Flow wasabi lie to me feeling so Sid Vicious
Woke up and did dishes
Nigga that's my dirty work
Back when white kids would say "not"
Nerd Alert i would watch Carmen Sandiego and
Get my feelings hurt i wanna do that man
Hard like a lap dance
Call a lady friend and get that
Head like a CAT scan hit the blue dream
CPR my smoke
'Bino not your favorite rapper cause
Your favorite rapper broke he a joke dude
Why you fucking with him let me coach you
Its the eyebrow nigga with the fucked up hair
And we drink brown liquor at the
Compound with the lights down
And her nightgown is nothing so I'm fucking
Right? Sometimes I'm in the middle of
That shit and I'm like
"This is what I wanted"
Fuck I must be blunted
Was that out loud we want hunnit
Is that shit straight?
Gambino more childish than a kid's play
Instead of an ashtray I use your mixtape
With my nigga EAE then we gotta be

Stop the fussing I am a glutton
Motherfucking your discussions
I rap with substance alcoholic drinks
We assemble 3D 'Bino D-von I am Buh-Buh Ray
Fuck another match I wrestle
Cats with wisdom everyday
Part of the game is missing
Never could fall a victim but I fixed it
Switch positions to assist myself
Passes to the glass
Not pasteurizing the past
But milking it for it's worth
Now pastors are on my ass
I keep that shorty around like the merry go
Fuck her like a gigolo
Drink until my liver gone
And bambam like I'm Bigelow
Trees up in a bong double D's up in her bra
In the hood we spit them verses
While the white boys play guitar
I'm so un raw and never go off
Incredible feats a nigga is beast
I'm just making the beats
I never unleashed the lion
Though I'm trying to
Your heart is still with Zion too
Find that solitude but only
Rapper niggas I include
Intellect not the instrument
Fuck the world I got the biggest dick
Take you on this ego trip
Pack your bags popping tags
A woman is not a shopping bag
She just shops at Saks
I fill her with my juice now shes
Loose and on on my slacks
So what is all this better get up off it
And proceed with caution
Dream killers we making them nauseous
Putting them in these coffins
Forever dumping never sweating records
If your records represent your resting
Place this is the grave that Heaven made