[Intro]
Woah, woah, woah
Church, Church, Church, Church
[Verse]
Six fifty gallon drums, fill them mugs up at the co-op
Make three of 'em scratch feed, the other three haul corn
I hold it down like Yellow straps, automatic in my zone
I wreck shit, but I won’t break, no body parts at AutoZone
But you gon' need a arm and leg like you escaped the Zodiac
And crawled your half-ass ass back home and made it to your fuckin' steps
Then got ran over by a taxi cab that don’t exist 'cause hipster kids
With hipster friends do hipster shit, "I was vloggin' on my Uber shift
Then totally, like, hit this kid, then when I grabbed my rear-view mirror
It looked like Master Splinter was pullin' it into the fuckin' sewer system"
River, river, river rat, river Rat-a-saurus Rex
I'm like, "Who the fuck is that?" I'm just kiddin', I don’t look back
School y’all hoes, don't touch my backpack, no textbook, I make my own maps
Christopher Columbu-Church, I set sail and set eyes on icecaps
New horizon’s where my mind's at, my DNA has had wire taps
Took shrooms and rode a cow then ended up with a jug of milk in a motherfuckin' space ship
I— I— I— What the fuck? Where's the Hershey’s syrup, boy?
I know I'm transparently white, but I still like a little bit of chocolate, son
Bitch, I'm Vanilla Ice, ice, Baby Face Nelson
Cornbread fed, ain't a fuckin' thing you can tell me
Moonwalkin' in the mesosphere, Beats headphones taped to my ears
Blarin' a 2000's beat then Y2K my engineer
Ble-ble-bu-ble-ble-br over the system when I function
Mumble rappers brain cells are in the negative with the numbers
They like, "Yo, yo, yo, roll that shit, I flipped that shit, I did that drip"
You sound like you dipped your face in Elmer's glue, kindergarten kid
You can follow me if you want your lyrics chiseled in hieroglyphics
I'm flyer than a hang glider on a cliff with infinite wind, bitches
And I'll put you on crutches from gettin' trucks sticked in a mud pit
Make your nuts seem more bald than Michael Phelps' fuckin' armpits
You can dive down deep to my underground depth
My holy water the darkest, petroleum jelly yourself
The Polar Bear Club ain't even accepted by me
The last time the ice age happened I thought of a rhyme and made the fuckin' dinosaurs extinct
No comet
I don't gotta be a comet through the universe divide
I'm convinced that Willie, Waylon and Johnny can travel time
Go listen to Highwaymen, yeah, these people think I'm crazy
Interviewers leave my house because the ghost be in their faces
But it's only when I'm talkin' music, ask Matt 'bout the missin' footage
Ask Bri 'bout how I can use my mind to cut the lights off, homie
If I go missin', the Men in Black done picked me up
But they better have a blunt inside that flashy thing, son
[Outro]
Alright, come here, look straight, right here, alright, hold still
Ahh, god damn, motherfucker, that's my fuckin' eyes
What? Uh, you still remember?
Of course I fuckin' remember, dick, I'm the one who made that fuckin' thing
Let me see it, alright, you hold still
Alright, ahh, who are you?
Haha, I'm Church, buddy
Church
HI-DEAS 5 was written by Upchurch.
HI-DEAS 5 was produced by Thomas Toner.