Welcome Home Son The Jet Age of Tomorrow (Ft. Casey Veggies & Tyler, The Creator)

[Verse 1: Casey Veggies]
Ridin' 'round town same old seven stilo
Nigga couldn't change you could blame it on my ego
Yungun started grinding man I did it on the d-low
Came back shining with that 4th quarter free throw
Game time nigga even if get the rebound
Hoes tryna figure where I be now
But that love shit ain't somethin' I don't see now
Lost, still profound, and every day it go down
My niggas got a name now
These other niggas lame now
So I do my thang just to bring them haters pain now
Nigga Matt Martians told the boy to write a verse
Came in killin' ain't even need to rehearse
Swear I take it down and I make that girl disperse
And I ain't just kill it man I put it in a hearse, I'm back home, like

[Verse 2: Tyler, The Creator]
Suck it up, cock it up
Time is when the clock is up
Cause you don't have to talk for us to chop it up (Chop it up?)
Freezer burn, erection when I see you squirm
For me not to get inside your face I'm the newest dermatologist
Blood on my shirt no one acknowledged it
From teenage babes leaving dates I got to followin'
Swallow it, clean it off, polish it
Axe you up in the back of my shack, fuck some hollow tips
Throw you in my deep creek of self-esteem on some shallow shit
The Kids used to tease now I'm hiding in the leaves of the trees where the school where their teen daughter attend
I grab them by the pelgro throw them in the passenger
To balance up the color of my van it matches egg yolk
My only fucking way to calm down, the view of dead folk
"This movie fuckin sucks"
Because the pay per view is dead ho now shut the fuck up and work magic with esophagus