Childish Gambino — Dream / Southern Hospitality / Partna Dem

[Part 1: Dream] I had a dream I ran Atlanta And I was on every radio station And 107.9 was 97.5 again And they played me at Golden Glide on Friday And they played me real loud on the street We drive up Memorial Drive, up Wesley Chapel I reopen 112, and Jazzy T's I'd bring back Turner Field. I fire all the cops in Cobb county Chick-Fil-A will be open on Sundays I bring back LaFace Records, Freaknik, Kilo Ali, Lou I get J.R. Crickets some Spelman girls with big booties I reopen SciTrek, strippers will get Mother's Day off And I'd have my own Gangsta Grillz mixtape [Part 2: Southern Hospitality] [Intro] Hey, this is Steve Smith from American Dad And this is Royalty (Stone Mountain) [Interlude: DJ Drama, Childish Gambino] This what y'all been waiting for? In Gambino we trust! (Gangsta!) Royalty is forever DJ Drama is forever (Gangsta Grillz!) Y'all ready? (yeah) Gambino! (yeah) Get em! [Verse 1] I ain't no snitch, cops, I don't trust 'em I ain't no bitch, all I do is run 'em I ain't—I ain't no snitch, cops, I don't trust 'em I ain't no bitch, all I do is run 'em Nigga, I was stuntin', keep that shit a hundred If it ain't about the money, then it's not up for discussion If it ain't about— [Interlude: DJ Drama, Childish Gambino] After selling out the Georgia Dome 3 nights in a row After selling 10 million copies of his newest album Roscoe's Wetsuit in one week! After successfully petitioning to recarve his own face into Stone Mountain (yeah, yeah) (Stone Mountain) He's still givin' you niggas a free mixtape? Why, Gambino? Why young guy? Why so generous? [Verse 2] I ain't no snitch, cops I don't trust 'em I ain't no bitch, all I do is run 'em (It's Royalty!) Nigga, I was stuntin', keep that shit a hunnid If it ain't about the money then it's not up for discussion If it ain't about progress, ain't about success Why this nigga suspect? You ain't seen sus' yet I'ma fuck the game so hard like Tiffney Niggas taking shots, I'm like "Nigga, don't tempt me" I seen what you make, yeah, them shows sold out But you doing clubs and I'm doing like all out things "Why the hell he rapping if he all out sings?" Royalty the movement, we all out kings For real, Bino on a mission We are not friends, nigga, this is business Girl, this my dream, ain't no split decisions Watch me cut this bitch off, I'ma need some scissors Mama in the kitchen, hot sauce on them chitlins I was always spittin', just that no one else was listening Got your girl and now we kissing, she attracted to my vision Now she see what she was missin', now she act a little different Telling you she need some distance Yeah, come on over, we can talk about it Now this nigga mad, yeah, he thought about it But he don't really want it, semen on her stomach That's a second coming; Jesus Flow so genius, can't low-key this Puffin' on a swisher like a ho smoke penis They want me Uncle Remus, but I'm just flexin' on 'em [Part 3: Partna Dem] [Intro] This on some old Atlanta shit. But I like it cause, it's not about what you know, but who you know. Know what I'm saying? [Verse] Royalty my partna dem, no one else my partna dem Stay strapped with that arsenal These niggas winnin', it's hard to tell Move over, we about to take over Slide up in them DMs, her nigga didn't even notice, I'm focused Yeah, I'm the man of the hour Play me on Power, play me on Hot Nigga I'm hot, nigga don't stop Flow so cold put a cherry on top Haters so mad, he ain't even know why, probably all the autonomy Fuck all your feelings, I'm proud of me Head was so good it's psychology God damn, I'm just being who I am From that weird ass little kid to this ballin' ass grown man Man this beat is going so HAM, flow been burr since Novem' Chain been burr since Novem' That means cold, I'm just sayin', we ain't playin' If your man don't want to lick it, I volunteer as tribute You niggas on them Hunger Games, I'm eating Os like onion rings I kill them hoes so constantly, I ain't even gotta sugar coat it See them titties, wanna motorboat it I'm Dopaliscious like SpottieOttie Y'all don't know me, run the world Turnin' up like that little girl, like, ayy-ayy-ayy-turn up Tell them niggas it's tax season Atlanta Georgia, that's black Sweden I'm such a martyr, die for the game I'm such a MARTA I'm runnin' trains like whoo Slow that shit, felt that shit Let me hear it