[Verse 1: Tyler, the Creator] Oh, you the motherf**ing man, huh? Oh, you be f**ing b**hes, counting all the bands, huh? Oh, you be trapping out the bando selling grams, huh? Oh, you be smoking, drinking lean, and popping Xans, huh? You see, that's the bullsh** that I don't need I'm telling y'all n***as, y'all ain't f**ing with me See, I look in the mirror and he said, "You are the man" And I said, "Hey man, I agree" Rocks on rainbow, Ben's a nice fellow Your neck reflects your personality, and mine is yellow Boy, I hit the block, like I hate Legos They know, they got thirty seconds; Jared Leto Before they see some halos, and I reload the ammo Boy, it's Golf Wang-o, and that's the squad I bang-o Until my f**ing brain go, now let's reload the aim-o [Verse 2: Tyler, the Creator] Can't a n***a get some f**ing chaos in hurr? I'm the truth and the dare And you can get your a** beat like a kick and a snare ScHoolboy's my n**y, you know I'm good in the 50s That boy's not that bad, enh, it's no Biggie It's the G-O, the L-F, we go-go, no h*mo We black out, and go hard like JoJo and f**in' Diggy No ship in this series, since I pissed off Iggy man We been that man since Batman had a sidekick Catch me in some Vans like one of them soccer mamas And them b**hes blue like that family went to the Dodgers Solve 'em (Oh no!) You can't b**h, I'm a problem And you'll get f**ed up like the thoughts inside of my noggin Going harder than the quidditch in Harry Potter All my shows got one black in it like Larry David And I'm that n***a, meaning I'm two n***as, I'm schizo Brent Lowe, my motherf**ing bingo Pink and yellow on my neck remind you of my dickhole And I don't really f** with you n***as, shout out to Jim Crow Don't get offended, love being darkskinned 23 with the crib and I don't got no tenants And I don't like sports, but the court got a tennis Is that diamonds on your neck? Stay the f** out my business See, that's that Cherry Bomb, get my burr on That's McLaren, '91 out the Chevron Motors Flog Gnaw, Vans on, f** your Jordans Went from throwing up to throwing carnivals Boy, I'm a sicko, flaco n***a, but kinda macho Boy, I got some vatos and shout out to ScHooly, he kinda loco Pack a de la pistol, we splitting nachos, then for that cheese Boy, he was using some shells just like a taco, so grab your goggles n***a, Taco Tuesday, you don't want none of that Have you heard of Fairfax? Boy, we was running that n***a took the store from us, yeah, f** all of that (Man, he really took the store) [Verse 3: ScHoolboy Q] Crack a cracker with a barrel, uh (yeah) Gang bang tattoos, this ain't a Louis rag (rag) Orange Paisley got me crip crazy (uh, sup cuz?) Pants heavy, sag to the left with the belt strapped No face mask, n***a, just toe tags Still the blunts getting pa**ed, yeah Ain't worried 'bout no n***as (n***a) Grieve over s**ers (s**er) Gunpowder on my knuckles (knuckle) Call the ambulances (ambulances) I'm from the era of crip walking You was clown-dancing, you wanna be me, huh? Cuz is wack in his raps and what he rap, he ain't done Top Dawg, Wolf Gang, smell the cat on your tongue p**y boy, you f**ed over, n***a, control your gums Teeth missing, moms' won't recognize your face when it's lump My square homie's license, double life in my trunk Mind, power, body, and soul, we break handcuffs Got a strike on my record, double cups, and duck You want the life like us, you need to crip that coast You want to steer that wheel, you want to smoke that kil' Well, who am I?