T.G.I.F.

[Verse 1: King Chip] Thank God I'm Fresh 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 [Chorus: Kid Cudi] 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 [Verse 2: Kid Cudi] 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 them 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 finna throw 'em on the Jag [Chorus: Kid Cudi] 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