[Intro: Pharrell Williams]

Ugh, what

[Verse 1: Pharrell Williams]

Explain yourself, how you sound like me?

The motherfucking Skateboard P

Knowing that you're Milo, playing games like Cee-lo

In a tight situation like Speedos

You can have it your way like Carlito

My niggas would be happy to give y'all torpedoes

And have your car twisted like a blunt

For you faggot-ass niggas that like to front

I'm on some BBC Bape shit, I'm on some cake shit

In the kitchen with the heat, making beats in my apron

You hating and you want to erase it

Close your eyes, when you know you can't take it

My flow interrupts your homeostasis

I Rolls-Royce it on a regular basis

You talk street shit, it sound like sweet shit

Straight licorice, you niggas sound ticklish

80K large for the Hermès dream

Purple Croc in all your magazines

Hunger strike yourself, look like Céline

Dion, me and my niggas like Freon

Your bitch is on my pecan, she got an ass you can eat on

Try to play tough like the leather on a Vuitton

I hit it 'til I could see dawn, tryna get her freak on

Ask me to R. Kelly ya and get peed on

I said, "That ain't me, ma"

That eight behind me still got the burner

Yes, the Enzo is still black like Sojourner

Truth, I might have just loosened a tooth

Spitting what I did in the booth – I'm out, poof

[Verse 2: Lupe Fiasco]

Carrera, raised in the 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle' era

Water-bearer, tell the truth, I dare you

You lie, so eat this whole bottle of these jalapeño peppers

For terror made in America too live

Fuck the property, or give me my props properly

High off life, this high technology, DeVry

I rep Muhammad Ali, more like rap-ology

My policy's not to be dishonestly deprived

So gimme that, gimme that, keep God where my city at

I'm like Steak With Fries but never died

They wanna Ghostface, wanna be me

But they will post-haste follow me into the afterlife

That means you going right after I've

But I'm the hero, sorta like Jack Sparrow

So some way, somehow, I have survived

Ha, ha, surprised?

Who is he that we see coming over the tides?

In a speed boat, boatload of pride

Fall of Rome, dress-shirted and Mastermind tie

He what happens when rapping and avant garde fashion collides

O.M.G., it's the "C" from the CRS

L.O.L.'ing at you haters, tell your BFF's like

[Verse 3: Kanye West]

Yes, Mr. West, turn that new Child Rebel

Loud as a badass child level

Who need a chorus? We do it Tyrannosaurus

Tyrone, it's been a year with no phone

Could you explain how high is your zone?

We'll take the plane, rub his nose in cocaine

There's hoes in magazines you layin' saying you're lame

And for the hate in advance, pull down your pants

Make 'em kiss both cheeks like we living in France

Diamonds blue, his business manager's Jewish

And if I get sued, my lawyers Jews

Some girls do grab the cojones

Say, "You got enough diamonds to at least Sierra loan us"

Brand new Ferraris, I gotta make the donuts

CRS is like a hip-hop Christmas bonus

Niggas is hating on the internet, I couldn't tell

I was too busy rapping G.O.O.D. as hell

I was too busy flying, parasail

To Colette to get the new shit that Paris sell

Tarantino, Da Vinci, getting Benjis

Get half-off at Fendi, half of that's to Cindy's

Hopped out the spaceship, put my Mork in Mindy

Popped too many corks to let you dorks offend me

Props in New York, but Chi-Town's the city

Get my groupie hoochies Gucci, Monica Bellucci's

Are those the real millionaires or the bindis?

I'm so ultra, I'm even over Oprah

But let me check your account, haha, no sir