Nikes (Music Video Version)

[Intro: Frank Ocean]

Special shoutout to the icon dynasty, Slip-N-Slide Records

I got two versions, I got two versions, I got two versions!

[Verse 1: Frank Ocean]

These bitches want Nikes (This is a setup)

They looking for a check (Oh my god)

Tell 'em it ain't likely (This bitch tryna set me up)

Said she need a ring like Carmelo (Hands up, oh my god)

Must be on that white like Othello (Oh my, it's a real-life angel)

All you want is Nikes, but the real ones (Yeah)

Just like you, just like me (Tell these niggas—tell these guys you ain't basic)

I don't play, I don't make time (Tell these guys you wear Zanetti's, you a hottie) (This is heaven on earth)

But if you need dick, I got you (But if you're in the party, don't bring your shotty)

And I yam from the line (Love everybody)

Pour up for A$AP (Rest in peace)

R.I.P. Pimp C (Rest in peace)

R.I.P. Trayvon, that nigga look just like me

Woo, fuckin' buzzin', woo! (Remember one thing, remember one thing…)

That my little cousin, he got a little trade (Don't take no photos in the party)

His girl keep the scales, a little mermaid (That's rule number one, rule number two…)

We out by the pool, some little mermaids (Don't take no photos in the party)

Me and them gel like twigs with them bangs (Rule number three…)

Now that's a real mermaid (I got one left…)

You been holding your breath, weighted down (If you in the—)

Punk madre, punk papá (If you couldn't get to the—, go your ass to sleep, we in the—)

He don't care for me (Special shoutout to them live niggas at Rap-A-Lot Records)

But he cares for me (We keep it hot)

And that's good enough (I've been working on my bod, I feel hot)

We don't talk much or nothin' (If we in the—holla at ya gwalla)

But when we talkin' 'bout somethin' (Oh my god, hold up)

We have good discussion (Tell these basic bitches we don't wear Nike)

I met his friends last week, feels like they're up to something (You guys are naughty, you a hottie)

That's good for us (Hold up)

[Verse 2: Frank Ocean]

We'll let you guys prophesy

We'll let you guys prophesy

We gon' see the future first

We'll let you guys prophesy

We gon' see the future first

Living so the last night feels like a past life

Speaking of the, don't know what got into people

Devil be possessin' homies

Demons try to body-jump

Why you think I'm in this bitch wearing a fucking yarmulke?

Acid on me like the rain

Weed crumbles into glitter

Rain, glitter

We laid out on this wet floor

Away turf, no Astro'

Mesmerized how the strobes glow

Look at all the people feet dance

I know that your nigga came witcha

But he ain't witcha

We only human, and it's humid in these Balmains

I mean, my balls stickin' in my jeans

We breathin' pheromones, Amber Rose

Sippin' pink-gold lemonades

Feelin'

[Outro: Frank Ocean & Amber Coffman, Frank Ocean]

I may be younger, but I'll look after you (Prophesy)

We're not in love, but I'll make love to you (Prophesy)

When you're not here, I'll save some for you

I'm not him, but I'll mean somethin' to you

I'll mean somethin' too

I'll mean somethin' too

You got a roommate, he'll hear what we do

It's only awkward if you're fuckin' him too