C H I L D I S H G A M B I N O L Y R I C S

Heems (Feat. Childish Gambino) | Tell Me {Prod. Mike Finito}
Download the entire mixtape HERE for free 

[Heems]

Rap, rap. Ahaha
Rap, rap. Ahaha
Hip-hop, rap. Ahaha.
Yo, yo.

I’m ain’t a soldier, I’m a mastermind
Flashing in the flashiest fashions that the masters buy
Passersby passing me asking me if they can match this fly
Maybe with a MasterCard, ask this guy 

[Donald]

I got a rush card, so I gotta stunt hard
Rush Limballin’ while I’m listenin’ to tUnE-yArDs
Baby, put your shoes on, we gon’ turn the club out
Dammit I broke my foot again, I might have to sub out
nostalgia, ULTRA, you hang with vultures
Nigga we eatin’ good like we Oprah’s roaches
Buenos noches

[Heems]

Buenos dias! Frida Khalo, papas fritas!
We eatin’ good so they think we Free Masons
I’m about my paper like WB Mason
I’m about my paper like a Staples or an Office Max
Never have to off a cat, makin’ money off of rap
He went from potential abortion stat 
To the cat that pays his momma’s mortgage, cash
Lookin’ fancy in a foreign flash
Chamomile tea that we pour with splash 

[Donald]

Yeaahhh, remember Frutopia? That shit was delicious
But Snapple came back around and put ‘em out of business
Uhh, that’s a Snapple fact, used to eat Apple Jacks
That’s that Heems rhyme that I’m usin’ for this battle rap
Still got love for you, nothin’ like them other dudes
I am fly, you Hudson News
Leave MCs so cut and bruised
Comfortable like Huxtables, but fuck eating my vegetables

[Heems]

Yo, come they don’t sell batteries on the train no more?
I guess it’s ‘cause the iPod came out
I guess it’s ‘cause the iPod came out
Yo, I’m fresher than Samantha, strange man
Aguala, catch me up in Walhalla, I’ll holla
I put Snapple in Vitamin Water for like two bucks
Pepsi came and bought it, for nuthin’, like, what the fuck?
I’m from National Wholesale Liquidators
Rock bottom, Odd Lot, and all the haters
Does Benihana even sell wontons? (I don’t know!)
Donald just put me onto Bon-Ton 

[Donald]

Yes I did, man, I God damn did
I’m five foot ten, I might just win
I’m tryin’ not to die like them
Laid out in the street like Mr. Hooper, nigga
I remember havin’ to eat two scoops for dinner
But it’s all good, post-Obama and post-‘Ye
Three Six got an Oscar, it’s all okay, man!
I beg your pardon, Trayvon Martin
Atlanta is my home, but we treated like martians
I used to be a square like a Marlboro carton
Like, niggas wasn’t callin’ me nigga like last week
The only nigga in some nigga brown pants as we speak
Yeah, Gambino say it twice, ATM machine, nahmean?