Tyler, The Creator - Ziploc lyrics

Try to do this bitch in one take
Or somethin'

What's the point of bein' rich
When you wake up alone?
What's the point of goin' home
When it ain't nobody there? Fuck that
I grab my bike and phone home in the air
And I pedal through the city
With the wide frame steer
With that tall pale boy that I met last year
Grape, that's what I call him, love
That's what I fall in
Fell in, I ain't like sports growing up
But now I'm ballin'
I guess I'm a late bloomer ayo, look
High tide bottoms 'cause the neck on lunar
Them GOLF le FLEUR unos 'cause
We don't do Puma, nah
20k pairs, gone in 3 seconds
You ain't gotta like him and
You ain't gotta respect him
For playin' chess with these niggas
That think that they're bench pressin'
Leg day is getting skipped
Guess who really runnin' shit?
Young Teezy, it ain't easy
Feelin' wheezy in this bitch
New slaves got y'all niggas feelin'
Breezy on the ship
Pour a Fanta in your poison
So it's easier to sip, huh?
Haha! My shit leaked two weeks
Before that release date
First week, did dos, a thousand off
Beat Meek
Shout out Meek! Two niggas first week top 3!
And I can't even get a song
To play on the radio
But tripled in them ratings, TV
Channels still pay me tho, haha
P told me not to trip
I am in my Ziploc, nigga
Feel like I got the best album out, uh
I know I got the best album out, preach

Let me, let me hear that