Tell Me lyrics

[Intro: Heems]
Rap rap, ahaha
Rap rap, ahaha
Hip-hop rap, ahaha
Rap, yo

[Heems]
I'm a soldier, I'm a mastermind
Flashing in the flashiest fashions that the masters buy
Passersby passing me asking me if they can match this fly
Maybe with a mastercard, ask this guy

[Childish Gambino]
I got a rush card, so I gotta stunt hard
Rush Limballin' while I'm listenin' to Tune-Yards
Baby put your shoes on, we gon' turn the club out
Dammit I broke my foot again, I might have to sub out
Nostalgia, Ultra, you hang with vultures
n*gga we eatin' good like we Oprah's roaches
Buenos noches

[Heems]
Buenos dias
Frida Khalo, papas fritas
We eatin' good so they think we Free Masons
I'm about my paper like WB Mason
I'm about my paper like a Staples or an Office Max
Never have to off a cat, makin' money off of rap
He went from potential abortion stat
To the cat that pay his mama's mortgage cash
Lookin' fancy in a foreign flash
Chammomele tea that we pour with splash
[Childish Gambino]
Yeah, remember Frutopia? That sh*t was delicious
But Snapple came back around and put 'em out of business
Um, that's a Snapple fact, used to eat Apple Jacks
That's that Heems rhyme that I'm usin' for this battle rap
Still got love for you, nothin' like them other dudes
I am fly, you Hudson News
Leave MCs so cut and bruised
Comfortable like Huxtables, but f*ck eating my vegetables

[Heems]
Yo, how come they don't sell batteries on the train no more?
I guess it's cause the iPod came out
I guess it's cause the iPod came out
Yeah, I'm fresher than Samantha, strange man
Odwalla catch me up in Walhala, I'll holla
I put Snapple in Vitamin Water for two bucks
Pepsi came and bought it, for nothin' like what the f*ck?
I'm from National Wholesale Liquidators
Rock bottom, Odd Lot and all the haters
Does Benihana even sell wontons?
Donald just put me on a bonton

[Childish Gambino]
Yes I did man, I goddamn did
I'm five foot ten, I might just win
I'm tryin' not to die like them
Laid out in the street like Mr. Hooper, n*gga
I remember havin' to eat two scoops for dinner
But it's all good, post Obama and post Ye
Three Six got an Oscar, it's all okay
Man, I beg your pardon, Trayvon Martin
Atlanta is my home, but we treated like Martians
I used to be a square like a Marlboro carton
Like, n*ggas wasn't callin' me n*gga like last week
Only n*gga in some n*gga brown pants as we speak
Yeah, Gambino say it twice, ATM machine, nawmean?