The Truth (Goth Star)

[Verse 1: DC Pierson] Mr. DNA, flow so Jurassic Clumsy archeologist about to drop a classic Damn right we got a t-rex, I paid for that in plastic Clumsy archeologist about to drop a classic Mistake still burning but I'm learning like a raptor Take what I'm given make it work like an adapter Make short work of her, then I will adapt her Critics all agree it was the work of a master At last my success will match my fatigue And at last I'll send my children to an ivy league In the masks from The Strangers, freak the whole place out Get your glasses on, girl, geek your whole face out Don't open up your mouth unless to let something great out And that's not a beef, that's just a peek at the steakhouse A week at my maid's house to recharge my battery Then I'll be right back on top like Slattery You know from Sterling and Cooper If she's paid out then I will recoup her And if she's paid out then I will invest And if she's really played out then I will impress Upon her the need to please please me, whoa yeah Girl I'm on my knees, Ooh, I need it so bad It's like I work at NORAD It's DEFCON-5 Go out back to my car and drive Cause shit just got real Take a thirty wreck drive into a field Pass out in my vehicle Hope I wake up in a world more agreeable Hope I wake aboard unidentified flying objects Or a reject Enterprise A Starfleet drop out odyssey A route to cop out galaxies 'Til then I'm in the light, right where the moths are Impressive, depressive I'm a Goth Star [Verse 2: Childish Gambino] I do not talk, I am just a rapper Nigga I'm on Niggas try to off me Like these girls like I like my coffee In my lap Fuck this track It goes off beat but I'm on like clap And dog, you can have my scraps I'm close to these girls like her tampon flaps I'm having an effect on the hood like crack Even though I'm so suburban like a backpack strap Don't you get it? Read Ayn Rand Then you'll understand why they call me the man I'm just fucking special-er Different from you other guys Hating me in high school made me metamorphosize Kafka-esque, The way I dress I need to send Bo Diddley some checks On Marc Jacobs, Commes Des Garcon tie Diddy is my swagger coach, can't stop, won't stop Heavy hitter, short stop, horse face, horse cock Bouncer, door stop, tell me when enough's enough Looking at me warming up, microwave a nigga flow Pity y'all don't see me though the rest of y'all already know I get it like I gotta, man, Flier like a college band Niggas looking for a deal and I cut out the middle man Drinking fucking grape juice, early at a wine bar Blacker than Depeche Mode so I'm a Goth Star