Late 808

I done been around the world four times, lookin’ for parkin’
Finally found a condo, that shit still feel like apartment
Out South, my foul mouth started soundin’ like Cartman
Roundabout like cartwheels, hopped inside of a U-Haul
Confused where all my art went, monsters in a quiet place
Some of these decisions is like Sharpie on a dry-erase
I know they thought I wouldn’t, but I’m a fireplace
I had my cake and ate it too, that shit is an acquired taste
I promised I would buy a place, I got my favorite roommates
They used to never see me, like when you zip up a new Bape
Do that shit ‘fore it’s too late, don’t ever drink the Kool-Aid
Don’t ever think it’s sweet, that’s that crème de la brûlée
Who they? They Robert Goulet, they Nazi, cuckoo, goofy
My wifey yellin’, “Who they?” My daughter yellin’, “Hooray”
I see it clear like Blu-Ray, I park it in the sky
I keep ’em on my block, ’round the corner of my eye
Like a stye (Uh)