Tyler, The Creator and Lil Wayne - HOT WIND BLOWS

Ladies and gentlemen
We just landed in Geneva
Yeah, that's in Switzerland
We on a yacht
A young lady just fed me French vanilla ice cream
We all got our toes out, too
Call me when you get lost

I'ma travel the globe, you keep the block hot
Driver, open the door for me, my hand hurt
Find us, we playin' hide-and-seek with the passports
Where the fuck we at? Oh, the pilot gotta remind us, yeah
The luggage is pilin', I needed clothes to wear
So many stinkies sit in my wallet, look like a folding chair
The Cartier so light on my body, thought I floated here
We bolded here, it's Tunechi and Tyler but call me Baudelaire, yeah
Out in Switzerland, travel with my bitch, yeah, we kissin', dawg
I love when she let me rub her like Michelin
A hundred grand to sleep on a bird, the wings are whistlin' like
Man, they ain't listenin'
Cross the line like immigrants and benefit from it
Keep on stuntin' on these niggas
Make 'em sick to they stomach, man (you can't stop it)
Y'all don't understand, fish so fresh that you could taste the sand
Yeah, we gettin' lost but we know who we am (true story)
By the, by the, by the, by the some-some-somethin'
Treat that last part like you niggas ain't sayin' nothin'

Yeah, haha
You see these excursions right here?
Just too lavish to post on the 'Gram (Gangsta Grillz)
Uh (Tunechi)

Excuse me, pardon me, the wind, it blow so hard to me
Like mother nature arguing about some baby father beepin'
I'm stuck in the middle of the sandwich like slaughter meat
Got my middle fingers to the cameras, that's what Carter meet
From y'all to me, brrt, stop callin' me unless you're ordering
I'm on the beat, check out my feet out, and I stay on my feet
The corner beat, I'm on a deep route, just throw the ball to me
Thought all this lean would have me senile, I guess they see now
Let's touch down, catch a beat-down like I catch touchdowns
I fuck 'round and slow the beat down and take the drums out
The speed of my plum so great, I'ma eat my own flow
And I'm in need of a flaw, may eat me a rapper, I might as well eat me a ho
I'm hot as hell when the weather is freezin' the cold
As the devil and demon and ghost
I'ma get even and even get even some more
It's too late to even get low, baow
Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang, that's what I need you to know
Mula, Weezy the GOAT
The wind beneath my wings, Desert Eagle underneath my coat
Yeah, Mula (Bitch)

(Are we?)
All aboard, nigga
You see
We just over here admirin' the view of the mountains from the lake
Of course
Y'all know it's Wolf Haley, man, stop fuckin' playin'

Written by:
Dwayne Michael Carter Jr., Henry Mancini, Norman Gimbel, Tyler Okonma

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find