Don’t Stop!

Lyrics

[Intro: Pharrell Williams] Ugh, what [Verse 1: Pharrell Williams] Explain yourself, how you sound like me? The motherfucking Skateboard P Knowing that you're Milo, playing games like Cee-lo In a tight situation like Speedos You can have it your way like Carlito My niggas would be happy to give y'all torpedoes And have your car twisted like a blunt For you faggot-ass niggas that like to front I'm on some BBC Bape shit, I'm on some cake shit In the kitchen with the heat, making beats in my apron You hating and you want to erase it Close your eyes, when you know you can't take it My flow interrupts your homeostasis I Rolls-Royce it on a regular basis You talk street shit, it sound like sweet shit Straight licorice, you niggas sound ticklish 80K large for the Hermès dream Purple Croc in all your magazines Hunger strike yourself, look like Céline Dion, me and my niggas like Freon Your bitch is on my pecan, she got an ass you can eat on Try to play tough like the leather on a Vuitton I hit it 'til I could see dawn, tryna get her freak on Ask me to R. Kelly ya and get peed on I said, "That ain't me, ma" That eight behind me still got the burner Yes, the Enzo is still black like Sojourner Truth, I might have just loosened a tooth Spitting what I did in the booth – I'm out, poof [Verse 2: Lupe Fiasco] Carrera, raised in the 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle' era Water-bearer, tell the truth, I dare you You lie, so eat this whole bottle of these jalapeño peppers For terror made in America too live Fuck the property, or give me my props properly High off life, this high technology, DeVry I rep Muhammad Ali, more like rap-ology My policy's not to be dishonestly deprived So gimme that, gimme that, keep God where my city at I'm like Steak With Fries but never died They wanna Ghostface, wanna be me But they will post-haste follow me into the afterlife That means you going right after I've But I'm the hero, sorta like Jack Sparrow So some way, somehow, I have survived Ha, ha, surprised? Who is he that we see coming over the tides? In a speed boat, boatload of pride Fall of Rome, dress-shirted and Mastermind tie He what happens when rapping and avant garde fashion collides O.M.G., it's the "C" from the CRS L.O.L.'ing at you haters, tell your BFF's like [Verse 3: Kanye West] Yes, Mr. West, turn that new Child Rebel Loud as a badass child level Who need a chorus? We do it Tyrannosaurus Tyrone, it's been a year with no phone Could you explain how high is your zone? We'll take the plane, rub his nose in cocaine There's hoes in magazines you layin' saying you're lame And for the hate in advance, pull down your pants Make 'em kiss both cheeks like we living in France Diamonds blue, his business manager's Jewish And if I get sued, my lawyers Jews Some girls do grab the cojones Say, "You got enough diamonds to at least Sierra loan us" Brand new Ferraris, I gotta make the donuts CRS is like a hip-hop Christmas bonus Niggas is hating on the internet, I couldn't tell I was too busy rapping G.O.O.D. as hell I was too busy flying, parasail To Colette to get the new shit that Paris sell Tarantino, Da Vinci, getting Benjis Get half-off at Fendi, half of that's to Cindy's Hopped out the spaceship, put my Mork in Mindy Popped too many corks to let you dorks offend me Props in New York, but Chi-Town's the city Get my groupie hoochies Gucci, Monica Bellucci's Are those the real millionaires or the bindis? I'm so ultra, I'm even over Oprah But let me check your account, haha, no sir