[Produced by OnGaud] [Verse 1: Mick Jenkins] I ain't talkin' Yves Saint Laurent But I'm been on Saint Laurent like a motherf**a Overworked, overlooked, hella red Tell 'em that I'm Type O for the bloods**as Leeches I'm 6'5" quit reachin' n***a's only goal is the gold, tell them Creflo Dollar motherf**as quit preachin' I've been in the 514, my French gettin' too clean Customs is routine, eatin' hella poutine, I think I'ma buy one more n***a, I've been going through it as of late Lot of people talk what they think that they would have did Like the CTA I keep my patience I ain't in it for the JP Morgan chase, I'm a nice guy n***a do this look like last place, I'm on Priceline Searchin' for a flight to Montreal Me and Jerry on Saint Laurent I just want a little freedom; don't we all? Don't we all Just, get a little tired of the bullsh** they feed us? Serve and protect, like protect your pockets and servin' subpoenas Whole sh** a circus and they ain't even serving us peanuts I learned this, back when they was serving us free lunch System 'bout as foul as a free throw Tell me what the f** a n***a know about a free thought If everything that he thought stem from a remote This is so that he know [Hook] I ain't talking Yves Saint Laurent But I've been on Saint Laurent like a mothaf**a I've been in the 514, my French getting too clean Customs is routine, eating hella poutine, I think I'ma buy one more I've been in the 514, my French getting too clean Customs is routine, eating hella poutine, I think I'ma buy one more I ain't talking Yves Saint Laurent But I've been on Saint Laurent like a motherf**a On Saint Laurent like a motherf**a I've been in the 514 [Verse 2] Peep the pa**ion, the thought he put in is hardly comparable Speaking of parables, these days I find myself feeling like Charles Barkley; man, all you n***as is terrible So I just tell 'em, Southside in this mothaf**a, got the presence of a housefly Everybody know I'm in this mothaf**a, you can hear it when you listen And I do it for the fam; Peter Griffin, we got no Meg Ride good, n***a no pegs Free Nation rebels, you need more lead, homie get your weight up You know who I pray to when I wake up, no weapon formed, You don't get spared cause you less informed I'm on my square cause we in a box, burners be like cinder blocks Box sampled finna chop, door push it in the cold You could feel it when a n***a spoke Cause a n***a broke freeing all the feelings of the fickle folk f** with me, pour a little pa**ion and put it in your hope Grow a little jasmine and put it in your smoke Blow a little ash, it'll take a bigger toke Bumping Little Dragon, I take a drag thinking damn Hope you see the Simba crashing and a n***a note Hope you see the symbols, hope you Stacy Dash Hope you think quick fast when the trigger stroke Hope you think quick fast, catch my a** in the 514 [Hook] My French getting too clean Customs is routine, eating hella poutine, I think I'ma buy one more I mean I ain't talking Yves Saint Laurent But I've been on Saint Laurent like a motherf**a Overworked, overlooked, hella rare Tell 'em that I'm Type O for the bloods**as Leeches, I'm 6'5" quit reachin' n***a's only goals is the goal Tell 'em Creflo Dollar, mothaf**as quit preachin' [Outro] I've been in the 514 (my French getting too clean) I've been in the 514 (my French getting too clean) Shoutout to the 514 Shoutout to the 514 (6'5" quit reachin')