Childish Gambino - Tru Dudes Ft MC Chris lyrics

rate me

[Verse 1]

Is it really that bad that my clothes is tight?

That I hydrate dames like Pedialyte?

That I stay rock hard like a meteorite

But your homeboy here was an idiot right?

Well, ya thought wrong, I got flavor

I rock shows with the blue lightsaber

I hit dimes but also date eighters

I make moves, blow up like Al-Qaeda

I'm in kicks that you can't buy yet

Ya kicks okay like your name Wyatt

Care Bear clockers, pink highlighters

Haters wanna snack my heat like firefighters

Boys out there think they just like me

Naw naw, y'all funny, y'all from UCB?

Y'all standin' in line, I'm in VIP

Y'all know shit 'bout me like TIP, hah!

[Hook]

Ooh, bum bumbumbum bum bumbumbum

[Verse 2: MC Chris]

Think your boy's funny man, that's kind of hilarious

I'm the rapper makin' noise when there's shadow in your area

I'm like a ? cause I'm a little aquaceous

I do it for the hotties with the bodies bodacious

I'm high pitched, might flip if ya diss my node

Think Chris ain't the shit, you can kiss my chode

Weak ass sales, not too early to boast

Seriously bro, hand over the security code

Because my rhymes so fresh, green grocers' gotta spray 'em

Fired all my lawyers cause I didn't wanna pay 'em

From the PM to the AM I'll slay 'em with the psalms

Make a little money and I'll smoke the marijuana

MC without Glover, Murtagh without Riggs

Jamming peed the bottle with the grocer on her kids

One smokes Khan, the other smokes Mids

Let's mix it up a little like the DJ did

Bacardi and Coke, black and white cookie

Smokin' in the alley cause you know we're playin' hooky

We're up to no good, please don't tell our mamas

? cause we got this for Obama

[Hook]

[Verse 3]

Sick of the old yellow, money like bank tellers

The chicks that I'm with are thinkin' I'm Nutella

Y'all need to switch quick and get with a slick fella

Cause I'm bout to go Rihanna like I'm an Umbrella

Come over to my place, we can cut like shears

And make some mistakes like Jamie Lynn Spears

I'm nasty? No. Forward? Yes

I'm hip to the game, you're a rook like chess

My money so long that they call it John sewuu

Your money so light that it float like pillows

Oopsy, killers, you can see

They close up shop when the clerks see me

I'm not cocky because my collar's popped

Cause the bro's like soda, I shit you not

This shit's bright orange, Fanta shade

You got the yellow face, that's my lemon aide

I'mma try to stay tight like girls that fuck hard

Stay in the Bay with green like Brett Farve

[Hook x3]

Thanks to Katie for correcting these lyrics