Destination: remote
00:02
We done been everywhere
00:06
Only thing we ain't traveled
00:08
The boy record smell like bleach
00:11
I can travel where I want
00:13
I'm accustomed clearin' customs
00:14
It ain't custom, I don't come
00:15
Flee the bird to the truck
00:16
I scream, "Au revoir," to the stewardess
00:17
Border control asking stupid shit
00:19
Stayin' at home, I hate
00:20
Runaway love, but I'm no Ludacris
00:22
Sippin' on mint tea, take my shoes off
00:23
Then we take off, then I snooze off
00:25
Until I land where I'm foreign
00:26
Then I wake up, wipe the drool off
00:28
Got my passport in my weekend
00:29
I'ma cool off, get a sweet tan
00:31
Loafers filled with beach sand
00:32
Recline 'til it's time to peace sign
00:33
Fuck all the chains and the cars, get a passport
00:35
See the world, open your eyes 'til your back hurt
00:37
Niggas get bread and won't leave, shit is backwards
00:38
Start with your feet, then a car, then an airport
00:40
Get out your bubble gum
00:41
Blow up horizons, sun
00:43
Sled in the Alps or go tube in Missoula
00:44
Or tour in Japan or go scuba in Cuba
00:46
Or land in a borough, Jerrod got the brioche
00:47
Ciabatta in Como, it matches my peacoat
00:49
Oversee the sea, all the things that you could see
00:51
Like them languages I speak, out in Paris for a week
00:53
Take my nephews out to Nice, they like "Who?" I'm like, "Oui," ha
00:56
Globally recognized
01:11
Catch us if you can (baby, we on a safari)
01:17
Are you keepin' up? ('Fari)
01:22
Once in a lifetime (baby, we on a safari)
01:27
This what it sounds like when the moon and the sun collide
01:32
Speakin' matter-of-factly (baby, we on a safari)
01:37
We're just light years ahead (you said that it was you I saw with another in my place)
01:42
Every car retarded, the garage look like a loony bin
01:48
What coupe he in? Depends on the 'fit and the type of mood he in (ugh)
01:51
I been switchin' gears since Tracee Ellis Ross was UPN
01:54
Clutch, then he stroke outta nowhere like a droopy grin (ugh)
01:57
Huh, took that Grammy home, couldn't lose again
02:00
The suit was so sharp that it could get Medusa coochie trimmed (ugh)
02:03
Hov talkin' 'bout a hundred million, nigga, loop me in
02:06
Like who that young, rich, handsome nigga with the gooey skin? (Ugh)
02:09
Mama named him Tyler and his brothers call him T
02:12
And the bank, they call him when that wire clear like season three or somethin' (ugh)
02:15
Skateboard named him Bunnyhop, it's Baudelaire or Wolfie, though
02:18
The felines named him hour for how long he eat the— (pussy) wait a minute (ugh)
02:21
Pink loafers scuff quickly, Fiat cost a buck sixty
02:25
I'll keep it a buck fifty, y'all can't really fuck with me (ugh)
02:27
Bitch, I got the fuzz and I'ma own it 'til they bury him
02:31
Only twenty-nine, but I've been focused since thirty M (ugh)
02:34
Call me if you get lost (Gangsta Grillz)
02:41
And like that (uh) we gone
02:46