T.G.I.F. - Kid Cudi, Chip Tha Ripper

Knock knock, CuDi open up, it’s Chip

Gotta kush pack shells and some Henney we could sip

Keep a couple dolla’s on, give a penny to a bitch

But I’m wit a couple ho’s who said they really wanna get

Acquainted with some niggas who ain’t the average niggas

They just wanna see why all they girlfriends be wanting pictures

I be flyer then a hundred gnats, worth a hundred hundred-stacks

I ain’t gonna stop shoppin' till I hit a hundred sacks

Polo that’s a given I ain’t even gotta mention

Candy old-school put you niggas in detention

Slabbed niggas deeped-up tool in the clothes

I’m just a young fresh fly fool with some gold

Ay-ay, what it do my dude?

I’m living life, dawg, what about you?

And I ain’t even gotta tell a lie

My swag, my steez got a nigga sky-high

So I’m, watchin' my moves

From the shoes on the coupe

Be damned if a nigga ain’t high to the roof

Pimp tight get it right, homie, more or less

I gotta thank God I’m fresh

Oh, I rearrange faces when I drop

I’m super duper Cudi candy-paint the rag-top

Can’t nobody even tell me I don’t sip 'em when I lean

But get me to my fans, I’m country to the seas

Please, I stay up on my creep so to come up

Gotta look the part superstar, no stunnas

I’ma say some shit that make you think I lost my mind

I’m the only nigga that could watch the sun and don’t go blind

She fine as she wanna be, but she wanna check, though

Dodging and popping pictures like the ho’s was working with the law

Back in Shaker bitches, trynna play me to the left

Now I pick the hoes that I want and give my niggas what is left

I don’t know if it’s the name or the Bape gum bottoms

Keep them on salute them 501's you can’t knock 'em

Use to have the Honda with the thirty-day tags

That was in the past now I’m bout to throw 'em on the Jag

Ay-ay, what it do my dude?

I’m living life, dawg, what about you?

And I ain’t even gotta tell a lie

My swag, my steez got a nigga sky-high

So I’m, watchin' my moves

From the shoes on the coupe

Be damned if a nigga ain’t high to the roof

Pimp tight get it right, homie, more or less

I gotta thank God I’m fresh