U-N-I-T-Y
My hands fatigued and off the opus
Kept it underground, I focus
I feel afterlife, 6 under oath, don't want no hokus pokus
Niggas tryna go pop I draw contact
With my facemask
Nothin' but, nothin' but net
Is you Roger or Novak?
You still are no match, you get no rematch
Boy, you missed your moment
Perusing the MoMA
I'm on on my lonely, burst in tears
On his shoulder and it's so cold 'cause he's sculptured
Where's the shaman ayahuasca
I whatsapp'd him for atonement
I never ever trust a pre-rolled
I never let a random motherfucker shoot the B-roll
I never ask advice from him 'cause what could he know?
Never fuck someone you wouldn't wanna be though
It forever seems like time's up
When we swerved in the Honda
Now forever seems like no time, I mean time flies when you have some
Both nuts weigh two pounds, all on your bitch like futons
My crew saved your crew like niggas came through with the groupons
Hit them with the grease now, couple fries and cholula
Ain't slowin' down, but you holdin' down
Whoever held you down
Whoever propped you up
Built your structures with you switch the buckets with ya, who was fuckin' with ya
Who was your brothers when you needed that?
When you see him now, he's a force black
Hail Mary on a fourth down
Hands to the sky
Yeah, peace to the holy, peace to the people that think they know me
Peace to Moschino, cover your ass, your rectum showing
Peace to the boys that we used to be though
Geto Boy North Face too cold on these hoes
Peace out to Willy B, Bushwick Billy and Face
Piece of steak grillin' in Jesus' name, speakin' his grace
Hands to the sky
U-N-I-T-Y
Neptunes and peace signs
Chiraq, Palestine life
Hyper built 1995, you'd think that was airstrikes on outside
I put refugees in my villa
Play kids the Fu-Gee-La
All this space Atlanta
Place order McMansion and two apple pies
I want the Porsche, a Bugatti design
Silicon Valley new venture is tits up
How do I crop your new bitch out my Vine
Signal lost, pay phone, that white light
Fat Burger, Jackal
El Chapo, defacto
El nacho, shell taco, crunch crackle
Green emerald
Pink diamonds like Apple Jackles
Autor(es): Frank Ocean
