Watsky - Whoa Whoa Whoa lyrics

rate me

Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you take us for?

I’m a phenomenon and I gotta bring pain in the Octagon

When I wanna spit game at a soccer mom

I get it quicker than the left lane on the Autobahn

Fast, like Ramadan, and I battle young Padawans all the damn day

I’m getting necked and I’m hopping on a wrecking ball

So hot I got that motherfucker a la flambé

I go to Miley’s house, I see that Miley’s home

Play Miley’s ribcage with my dick like it’s a Xylie-phone

Yes, that was highly fucked up but my skills are highly honed

And if I was highly hyphy I might be more widely known

C’est la vie, better pay my fee

They kick it in Seattle in a Patagonia jacket, they get it in the Bay in a plain white tee

Hey mami, you a PYT

Wanna see me speak? Then I go, go, go, go, go

Every time I get a beat I know I gotta beat it up

I bend it then I break it then I chop it and I eat it up

And PETA would never approve of the way I’ve been treating the music

I bleed it, I bruise it, I kick it to the curb and then I’m sipping on my bourbon

I be freaking it doing it, keeping it moving

I’m picking apart the muscle when I’m thinking about the hustle but I’m nice, nice

Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you take us for?

I’ll jump the freeway median, I’m savage

‘Cause my mode is that I’m meaner than the average

Like my teacher taught me when I heard the crowd applaud

I thought I was an atheist until I realized I’m a god

It could hurt a bit when I murder shit

In a moment I’ll be tying off a tourniquet

When I burn ‘em and I hit ‘em in the sternum

I don’t even gotta enter but I’m gonna win the tournament

That’s what I’m all about, do what I gotta do and never gonna pout

And I hope that it would’ve been the end of it and I’m out

But they never tend to give me the benefit of the doubt

Ever since I was a little kid I know that I’ve been looking for the hot, hot spotlight

And if you really wonder what I think about the competition, they were not, not, not tight

I been reading my scripture

Every photobomber wanna be in my picture

And you better bet I’m living every single day like it’s the motherfucking Catalina Wine Mixer

Bada bing bada boom, when I walk in I’m the king of the room

And I get it locked in like a king in a tomb

When I spit a toxin and they cough on the fumes

‘Cause I’m back in the nick of time and attacking a fickle mind

I’m a jackal, I’ll rip his hide, I’mma tackle him, pick a fight

I be Dracula set to bite in the black of the bitter night and I’m out

Poof

Whoa, whoa, whoa, what do you take us for?