Pink Matter (Remix)

[Intro: Big Boi & Frank Ocean]

Remix

And the peaches and the mangos that you could sell for me

[Verse 1: Frank Ocean]

What do you think my brain is made for?

Is it just a container for the mind?

This great grey matter

Sensei replied, "What is your woman?

Is she just a container for the child?"

That soft pink matter

[Chorus: Frank Ocean]

Cotton candy, Majin Buu, ooh, ooh, ooh

Close my eyes and fall into you, you, you

My God, she's giving me pleasure

Oh, no, no

[Verse 2: Frank Ocean]

What if the sky and the stars are for show?

And the aliens are watching live

From the purple matter?

Sensei went quiet, then violent

And we sparred until we both grew tired

Nothin' mattered

[Chorus: Frank Ocean]

Cotton candy, Majin Buu, oh, oh, oh

Dim the lights and fall into you, you, you

My God, giving me pleasure

Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure

Pleasure over matter

[Interlude: André 3000 & Big Boi]

Hey, hey (Yeah, ha)

[Verse 3: Big Boi & André 3000]

Doesn't matter if she wanna be with me, so it's cool

I make her call me B.B. King because I give her the blues

But not on purpose though, she was the perfect ho-stess

When I come over, we would do the grossest

Most beautiful-est things on a bed of roses

You were the coldest when you hit the hardwood floor

We sippin' 'gnac, not mimosas

She's in my naked lap, goin' HAM like she supposed to

And she could make it clap if I told her

Or make her ass spread like the back of a cobra

Standin' at attention like a soldier

A G.I. Joe, man, see me, I go in (Ass, bitch, nigga)

Yeah, that nigga goes up in it

Like smoke through a chimney

Slow stroke, 'cause she feelin' me up in her, nigga (Hey, hey)

Killing me softly, raw dog, she wants me

Strong and black like her coffee, get off me

Act a donkey, I pin her tail to the mattress

I've been a player, make her go from classy to nasty

Nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty (Ha, ha, ha)

To sloosh (Hey, hey)

[Verse 4: André 3000]

Since you been gone, I been having withdrawals

You were such a habit to call

I ain't myself at all, had to tell myself, "Nah

She better with some fella with a regular job"

I didn't wanna get her involved

By dinner, Mr. Benjamin was sittin' in awe

Hopped into my car, drove far

Far's too close, and I remember my memory's no sharp

Butter knife, what a life, anyway

I'm building y'all a clock, stop, what am I, Hemingway?

She had the kind of body that would probably intimidate

Any of 'em that were un-southern, not me, cousin

If models are made for modelin'

Thick girls are made for cuddlin'

Switch worlds and we can huddle then

Who needs another friend? I need to hold your hand

You'd need no other man, we'd flee to other lands

[Bridge: Frank Ocean]

Grey matter

Blue used to be my favorite color

Now I ain't got no choice

Blue matter

[Outro: André 3000]

You're good at being bad (Ooh, yeah)

You're bad at being good (Ah-ha, oh)

For heaven's sakes, go to hell (Ah-ha)

Knock, knock on wood, hey (Ah-ha-ah)

You're good at being bad (You're bad at being good)

You're bad at being good (For heaven's sakes, go to hell, knock on wood)

For heaven's sakes, go to hell (Would have ya)

Knock, knock, knock, knock on wood

Well, frankly, when that ocean so mu'fuckin' good

Make her swab the mu'fuckin' wood

Make her walk the mu'fuckin' plank

Make her rob a mu'fucking bank

With no mask on and a rusty revolver