text: Yeah, H-B
  God said Im great, thou shall not hate
  So I love every body beefin with me like steak
  I chase after cake while your girl lick the icing, she go both ways, like she motorcyclin haha
  With out the motor, so she bicycle, taco in her mouth while she ride pickles
  I kick push, nigga, my hodg fickle, if you contemplate suicide, fuck it Imma die with you
  Id rather eat glass than squeeze and pull the trigger
  Call the competition and see whos the cooler nigga
  Im ice cold, similar to frozen
  Got a nice flow, similar to golden
  Im like a gold fish, we are the same color
  Im just like your brother, or significant other
  I work hard to provide grub on the table, turn impossible to possible if Im able to
  I must be dreaming, yeah, I said must be dreaming
  I must be dreaming, heh, I must be dreaming
  I just turned legal, and she must of turned evil
  Lifes a practice, so Im on the court shootin free throws
  Cause when the game come, is when the rain come, when it rains it pours, I wonder when the fame come
  Imma be writing to an instrumental, different snare, same drum
  Bang until Im dry, and my brains numb, yeah
  Fuck a computer clap, I need snare
  It sound like Im smackin on her ass while Im pullin on her hair haha
  I dont think she like it, the way that she stare
  But I continue with my program because I dont care. 
  Im so damn tight, like a fat nigga in skinnys
  Or a hoochie chick, with her skirt extra skimpy
  Music is ren, motherfucka Im stimpy
  Pimpin the game, never let the game pimp me
  Like a pimps, we on 6th street?, tryna play the slot, if theres money involved, best believe Im gonna take ya spot
  Haha, damn
  Damn, now?
  And, for..
  I must be dreamin
  I must be dreamin
  
  Im Tarzan on the mic, Odd Future the gorrilas
  Niggas do it for the fame, when I do it for the children
  Taking over, running the game, like a fucking pilgrim
  Knocking down the huts, and arranging for some buildings
  Gripping the grain, get my grains ingrained
  I chase dreams, I cant stop it, understand what you mean
  Im busy on the scene, while you tryna be seen
  We all have addictions and Im the type that feins, not the type that schemes and plays people like a Cello
  The mellow, hella, ghetto, running free in the meadows
  I picture me framed countin hundreds, in a falsetto
  Instead of a chick opening up like, rose petals
  I trust no one, sitting with my lonesome
  No congo drums, Tyler kicked another sample
  Beat is so hard that your motherfuckin amp blows
  Hustlers on the corner, and The Lady and The Tramp knows
  Nigga!
  Forever, yeah
  Hodgy Beats, Tyler the Creator
  Yeah
  Like, umm, G
  You fuckin next man
  You the golden boy in this rap shit
  Dont let these motherfuckers tell you any different
  Odd Future, bitch