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letra de untitled gilga radio song (4.14.24) - childish gambino

[verse i: childish gambino]
i haven’t heard a peep since his dad passed
salt and pepper the beard, looking at stars
he never smiles anymore, he just act sad
“this n-gga rich, i know it couldn’t be that bad”
mid life, my life was never mid, my wife with seven kids
they said see you at the top, but ‘oops’, they never did
that roof was closed, that new coupe got seven gears
(he ride through heaven tiers?)
the sun, oh, so out, that mix of joint pain
the colors are not the samе
the rain-bow effect thе child in my name
was oh so upset
i bounce, made me sit alone and time out
and bought a gun, they can f-ck around and find out
he found out
he on the spectrum like rainbow colors, we won’t forget
the devil is an angel’s brother
you try to make the new world, i couldn’t change the other
i took a bite of a peach from my yard
it made me wanna thank my mother for dealing with a
hyperactive, awkward, not attractive, honest, right? an actor, artist
who hasn’t made a piece since his dad past
you never know when you’ll be hearing that last laugh, that last fun, that last fight, that last f-ck
tip the uber eats driver that last buck, two spicy chickens with fries
outside a mansion with no art in it, off of i-85
a driver asked for a pic, uploaded it
they unloaded on the boy, we call that insta-snitch
a different rich, move to the mountains and buy a farm
a white boy took his daughter to prom, that sh-t haram, right?
the hate his mom type
he should be having that crisis, hardly
hairline touching his ears, dressing like steve harvey
going to (seamounts?)
drinking, playing jidenna
‘i’m a classic man’
different color rings, callin’ everybody kings
where my hug? where the (glassy?), man?
my father couldn’t show me how to get old, maybe they pay you
logo free, all of the clothes
maybe the road shop at the store gets f-cked less and listens more
put up 33 in the fourth and then kiss the floor
build a table around that peace tree
cream from your cow, like half a cup
pull 3 peaches and then cut ’em up
a little vanilla, but not too much
tryna tell me that ain’t fresh as f-ck, bought an m3
told your son, “try not to mess it up”
my kid’s sneaker prints all over my sh-t
i’m finding the happiness the older i get
i bought my mom’s spot with no deposit
i watch them run from themselves, that sh-t is serious
i’m a man who provides, you can’t embarrass us
you shaking hands with these man’s, because you obligated
they said we friends, when really we only conversated
music’s predatory, still here
you can’t ignore me
not everyone’s happy for me, that’s life
my baby mama’s my wife
and when you do something right
there’s not a hater in sight
they try to say you peaked when his dad passed
i need life, not the lifestyle
i grow the loud, my neighbor ask me to pipe down
3 stack saying there ain’t sh-t to write down
i did the colonoscopy verse, i p-ss on all you haters and leave the seat up
don’t trust the mother of your child, need a prenup
a billion streams, but can’t sell an arena?
nauh, i couldn’t be y’all

[verse ii: childish gambino]
the stadium lights, my name in bright neon
uh
i’m f-cking up these hoes (?) a (?)
(fake that?) i’mma make a lake from this cash flow
if you ain’t really wanna know the truth, what you ask for?
i’m gassed up
we gon’ f-ck ’em up like i’m tay keith
keith lee, uh
y’all ain’t got no taste, y’all should eat free
kids plate, it’s a different day, i’m a different beast
‘nough said, you done make your bed, we got different sheets
i done been straight, y’all seem nappy, though
big house, big bank, but is you happy though? (is you happy?)
yeah, is you happy, though? (is you happy?)
i might be on one
i just bought some acres off of fruit funds
thumbin’ ks, mama thought that i was holding coupons
erewhon water in my see through
if i bring my n-gga to the table, he gon’ eat too
n-ggas tight, like it’s me too
and i just got my switch back, activate my core like a six pack
n-ggas late, i done been that
buzzer beater like a free throw
got my shorts where my knees, hoe
n-ggas cappin’ like a keystroke
[outro: childish gambino]
everybody go
la-la-la-la (put your hands up high,)
(in the sky for me)
la-la-la-la (put your hands up high)
(in the sky for me)
you ain’t gotta worry ’bout me no more
you ain’t gotta worry ’bout me no more

- childish gambino

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